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CONCERNING LIFE 



CONCERNING LIFE 



SERMONS 

BY 

GEORGE DIMMICK LATIMER (A.B. Harv.) 

Minister of the North Society 
Salem, Mass. 




BOSTON 

AMERICAN UNITARIAN ASSOCIATION 
1907 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Cootes Reeelved 

AP{< IT 1307 
a Copyright Entry 

CUSS /\ XXc„Nt. 

GO FY B. ' * 



Copyright 1907 
American Unitarian Association 



To the friends in Boston and Salem whose 
encouragement has been my support, whose com- 
mendation my reward, this volume of sermons is 
offered in grateful acknowledgment of seventeen 
happy years in the Christian ministry. 

Salem, March, 1907. 



CONTENTS 



Page 

I. Is Life Worth Living ? 1 

II. The Happy Life 11 

III. Life as a Fine Art 21 

IV. The Liberty of the Inner Life ... 33 
V. The Builder with the Sword .... 43 

VI. The Girded Loin and the Burning 

Lamp 56 

VII. The Lean Soul 67 

VIII. The Renewal of the Inward Man . . 77 

IX. The Opened Eyes 88 

X. The Barrel of Meal and the Cruse of 

Oil . 98 

XI. The Threefold Cord 109 

XII. The Church and Our Young Men . . 122 

XIII. Gideon's Band 134 

XIV. The Burning Bush 146 

XV. Three Necessary Things 156 

XVI. « Friede, Freude, Freiheit " . . . . 167 

XVII. Christian Courtesy 179 



CONCERNING LIFE 



i 

IS LIFE WORTH LIVING? 

Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of 
it are the issues of life. — Proverbs iv, 23. 

Yes, I answer my question for most of you 
as well as for myself, life is worth living, even if 
things were growing worse. Mark Tapley, you 
remember Dickens' story, used to declare there 
was no merit in being cheerful when everything 
went well. What makes life interesting is to have 
an interest in it. All these evils of which we very 
properly complain are so many challenges to the 
good citizen. Take part in this struggle against 
evil forces ! That is the word for the pessimist. 
The men who are content to read our sensational 
papers and shake their head over " these degen- 
erate days," without giving of their time and 
money to aid reform movements, are not the best 
citizens, although they may think so. We are 
not in this world merely to have " a good time " ; 
1 



2 CONCERNING LIFE 



but to make it a better world. We are debtors to 
the past generations and creditors to the coming 
generation. Take part in the fight against cor- 
ruption, in your own life aim at simplicity, keep 
your sympathy with your fellow-men, — this is 
what we want to say to our discouraged friends. 

But life is not growing worse. If one really 
thinks so, let him read history, the history of our 
own or of any other country, and he will learn 
that the very evils of which he complains were 
rife in the past, and that in many respects there 
has been a decided gain. We have only to re- 
member the advance Civil Service Reform has 
made in our own day, we have but to think of 
the intelligent interest of so many young men 
in good government, of the very recent demand 
for an aesthetic standard in municipal house- 
keeping, of the extension of education in public 
lectures and evening schools, to enumerate only 
a few among many signs of progress, in order 
to see that discouragement is childish. Next to 
hard work in the ranks of the reformers, the 
best corrective for pessimism is the reading of 
history. For the great teaching of history is 
that Eternal vigilance is the price, not only 
of liberty, but of human welfare in general. 
The evils that threaten our civilization have al- 
ways existed and, in one or another form, will 



IS LIFE WORTH LIVING? 3 



probably always exist. Selfishness, that is the 
desire to get more than another has, to shirk 
responsibilities, to live for pleasure, is a weak- 
ness of our human nature that must always be 
fought. There is no discharge in that war. 

The real reason for our pessimism is that we 
are growing old, you and I, my critical friend. 
Many a time I have asked myself that very 
question — Is the world better or worse ! And 
I have come to the conclusion that two facts will 
explain my own and your doubt. First, the 
man knows many of the evils of life that are 
carefully kept from the boy. We teach children 
that it is a good world, to respect those in au- 
thority, to be unselfish, to be high-minded. We 
tell them that honesty is the best policy, that 
toil, temperance and thrift are the stepping- 
stones to success. As the boy becomes a youth, 
and as the young man enters into the competi- 
tive life of business and politics, he learns that 
the world is evil as well as good, that many a 
rascal prospers, that selfishness seems to succeed, 
that for many a man speculation is a quicker 
road to wealth than industry and economy. Of 
course the idealistic teaching of the home and 
school is affected by the hard realities of the 
world. A certain amount of this disillusionment 
is inevitable. As men we are told many things, 



4 CONCERNING LIFE 



we observe many things, we experience many 
things, which as boys we did not know. The re- 
sult is nearly always a spirit of pessimism, some- 
times of cynicism, that is very unfortunate for 
the young man who ought to carry his ideals 
into the life of the world. The best men out- 
grow it, however, passing through it as the child 
goes through measles and the mumps. 

Secondly, with the years our standard of right 
increases ; certainly as to what is right for others 
to do. We are more exacting. We want bet- 
ter municipal government, we want a more beau- 
tiful city, we want more honorable business deal- 
ings, we want a social life free from scandals, 
we want more efficient education, we want to see 
poverty and crime lessened, we make greater 
demands upon life, that is upon men and women. 
The man of thirty asks questions that did not 
occur to the youth of twenty. The man of 
fifty has an ideal of citizenship that is not easily 
satisfied. 

There is no nobler t} r pe of character than that 
of the reformer. Yet he is the most merciless 
of critics, he is too often the pessimist as re- 
gards business and political life. Ill people, dis- 
appointed men and women, the moralist and the 
reformer, are not the best judges of men. Their 
own experiences, their own failures, their own 



IS LIFE WORTH LIVING? 5 



disappointments, make it difficult for them to 
be just to other men, to accept measures that 
seem to them unwise, to acquiesce in the new 
and untried experiments we are always making. 
Probably the hardest task of the aged is to 
keep their faith in human nature. Courage is 
in inverse proportion to experience. 

Life is worth living. Let us say it again 
and again. It is worth living as regards our 
personal gains. It is worth living as touches 
the actual amount of pleasure we get out of it. 
Is there anyone who does not find enjoyment in 
it? It may be questioned. This past summer 
I have been among the peoples of Southern Eu- 
rope who, notoriously, are easy-going and 
happy ; and happy in very simple ways. I think 
that is far truer of our own people than we are 
inclined to believe. There are few, if any, per- 
sons who do not have their holidays, who cannot 
find some enjoyment in each day. We take 
pleasure in observing the pleasure of others. 
On shipboard we amused ourselves watching 
the Portuguese immigrants — barefooted men, 
women with a kerchief over their heads dancing 
to the accompaniment of accordion and mando- 
lin. And then, really, we don't expect to amuse 
ourselves all the time! 

Life is worth living because of the culture 



6 



CONCERNING LIFE 



the years may bring us. That is what life 
means, in large part education. The knowl- 
edge of men and books, cultivated tastes, the 
enjoyment of nature, the delight in art and mu- 
sic, good conversation, — all these sources of 
spiritual profit are easily accessible. " My mind 
to me a kingdom is, such present joys therein I 
find," said an old English writer. Take this 
great and increasing interest in art among our 
American people. It means a fresh lease of life 
for many a lonely and despondent woman. Pho- 
tographs, lectures, illustrated magazine articles, 
bring before us the world's masterpieces in paint- 
ing, sculpture, and architecture. How beauti- 
ful some of the postal cards are! at present I 
should say one of the great industries of Eu- 
rope. The returning traveller brings back hun- 
dreds of them, a satisfying record of his itin- 
erary, and a means of communicating his pleas- 
ure to his friends. I noticed lately that in St. 
Nicholas, a magazine for the young people, there 
is running a series of articles, well illustrated, 
entitled " How to study pictures ! " Culture, 
whether we understand it in the narrower sense 
of being versed in literature, art and music, or 
in the larger sense of wide experience, broad 
sympathies and sound judgment, is one of the 
precious gains life offers us — a perennial source 



IS LIFE WORTH LIVING? 7 



of happiness. As Tennyson makes Ulysses say, 
" I am a part of all that I have met." 

Then the friendships the years bring us — 
this knitting together of two lives in common 
interest and common aspirations, the affection 
of the family, the ties of the social circle, busi- 
ness associations, fellowship in good works, — 
certainly these are a gain that only the years 
can bring. 

" A ruddy drop of manly blood 
The surging sea outweighs. 
The world uncertain comes and goes; 
The lover rooted stays. 
I fancied he was fled, — 
And after many a year, 
Glowed unexhausted kindliness, 
Like daily sunrise there." 

How much richer life is at the end than at the 
beginning ! The real gain is not in fortune but 
in friendship. As we grow older we cling more 
closely to the friends of long standing. And 
the secret of keeping young is to have young 
friends. 

From another point of view, life is worth liv- 
ing for the sake of fellow service. " No man 
liveth unto himself alone." That we soon dis- 
cover. We cannot attain culture without the 



s 



CONCERNING LIFE 



aid of others. We cannot have friends without 
being the friend. Even when life appears to 
offer very little for your personal enrichment, 
still there is a profound satisfaction, almost joy, 
to be found in some work that you can see is 
of benefit to others. To fight against evil con- 
ditions, to care for neglected children, to aid the 
needy, to visit the sick, to serve on some commit- 
tee, — how many ways there are in which one 
enters into this splendid, stimulating life of sym- 
pathy! Life is worth living, not only for what 
we can get out of it, but also for what we can 
put into it. In a sense the community is a large 
family where the welfare, the ambitions, the 
gains and losses, the joys and sorrows, concern 
each one of us. Goethe is always spoken of as 
the apostle of modern culture, yet as a man of 
wide vision he saw all the significance of social 
ties. " Man," he said in a luminous sentence, 
" is the most interesting of all objects to men, 
and perhaps should be their sole interest. For 
everything else that surrounds us is either an 
element in which we live or a tool we use." Self- 
ish persons may well reflect upon this truth. 
Not only we need the society of others for our 
own culture and for our own entertainment, but 
only as we ally ourselves with all good men and 
women in building up a fairer communal life 



IS LIFE WORTH LIVING? 9 



do we find a continuous interest in living. It is 
one of the paradoxes of our nature that we want 
to live for self, but as we grow older we learn 
that only as we get away from self are we truly 
happy. 

There are three possible views of life. We 
are in the world to enjoy ourselves. Pleasure is 
the god before which we bow. And before many 
years have passed we discover that pleasure is 
a hideous idol that, like Moloch of old, consumes 
its worshippers. Then there is the view that we 
are in the world to suffer. We are the victims 
of an iron destiny that recks not of human woe. 
" Thou art so full of misery, were it not better 
not to be ! " But that is so miserable a concep- 
tion of life that only those who are sick or 
despondent or morally ruined can long hold it. 

Then there is the thought of life as a disci- 
pline. We are here for the development of our 
spiritual nature. The web of our years is made 
of dark and sunny threads. The interwoven 
joy and sorrow, the losses and gains, the tri- 
umphs and failures — all go to the building up 
of a finer, sweeter, more inspiring humanity. 
Now that is the only view of life that stands 
the test of reflection. It is not only the verdict 
of common sense, or experience; it is also the 
teaching of philosophy, or profound reflection; 



10 



CONCERNING LIFE 



and it is evermore the truth of religion, 
which means a serene confidence in the ultimate 
purposes of God. Life is worth living if we 
want to make it so. Far deeper than the day's 
events is the life of the spirit, a life that can 
be lived with high aims, with generous sym- 
pathies and in the ever-deepening conviction that 
we are set here by God for a purpose; that with 
His aid we can live nobly, as disciples of Christ 
and as those who hope for another and more 
beautiful life hereafter. 



II 



THE HAPPY LIFE 

— happy slialt thou be and it shall be well 
with thee. — Psalm cxxviii, 2. 

Yesterday we opened a fresh page in the ledger 
of life. We closed the old accounts, as best 
we could, and opened new ones. The calendar 
is arbitrary ; but our sentiment makes a great 
difference between December 31st and January 
1st. Jean Paul Richter said he believed heaven 
was made up of beginnings. The genial Charles 
Lamb declared that every man had two birth- 
days; his own and the new year. To-day we 
shall wish each other a Happy New Year. A 
week ago we were wishing our friends a Merry 
Christmas. 

There is a great, a significant difference in 
these greetings. Have you ever thought of it? 
We wish our friends a Merry Christmas, but a 
Happy New Year. Our greeting for Christmas 
is for the day only. We wish this great festi- 
val of the year to be joyous, gay, full of unre- 
11 



12 



CONCERNING LIFE 



strained mirth. May you be merry ! that is, 
may all care and anxiety be banished. May 
you return to the high-spirits and glee of child- 
hood. 

Our greeting now is for the whole year. It 
would be childish to wish that a whole year should 
be filled with merriment — merriment is for par- 
ticular days and seasons — and so our wish is 
that our friends may be happy in the new year. 

In this simple matter of holiday greetings we 
make a distinction that goes very deep into life. 
It is the difference between pleasure and happi- 
ness. Pleasure refers to the gratification of the 
senses ; a game of ball, a dance, a drive, a visit 
to a picture gallery, a concert, all these things 
give pleasure because they call into healthy ac- 
tivity certain muscles, or because they gratify 
the eye and ear. Happiness, on the other hand, 
has reference to mental or moral gratifications. 
A friend makes you happy because your life is 
made larger and richer by his sympathy. To 
conquer a temptation makes one happy because 
we wish to be upright, honorable men. The 
noble action of another gives us happiness be- 
cause it confirms our faith in human nature; 
because we have an abiding interest in the tri- 
umph of the good. 

Pleasure is also of a temporary character. 



THE HAPPY LIFE 



13 



The game, the dance, the drive, give pleasure 
because they are short-lived, because they are in 
such marked contrast with the routine employ- 
ment they break up. A game or dance or drive 
indefinitely prolonged would be a vexation of the 
spirit as well as a weariness of the flesh. It 
would be so, likewise, with the higher form of 
pleasure we derive from music and pictures. 
Their charm is in their occasional character. We 
can spend just about so much time in the concert 
hall or art gallery before we feel fatigued. 

Happiness, on the other hand, has a perma- 
nent quality. It is applied to a life-time rather 
than to days and seasons. The value of friend- 
ship is in its staying power, it is constant in 
prosperity or adversity. A moral victory, some 
intellectual triumph, an heroic action, — these are 
lasting sources of delight. They bring happy 
thoughts whenever they enter the mind. 

The most important difference is that happi- 
ness may include some sorrow, pain, disappoint- 
ment, as well as pleasure. I suppose that heroic 
Peary would speak of those years in the Arctic 
circle as happy, despite the loneliness and pri- 
vation and suffering, since he was realizing the 
dream of his mature life. Hammerton, artist 
and man of letters, was a happy man in his lit- 
erary work, and yet the writing of each book 



14 CONCERNING LIFE 



was an arduous task demanding a long aftertime 
of recuperation. Happiness, like health, does not 
mean that one never has an ache or pain. It 
means that despite occasional weariness of mind 
or body the man's life is sound, wholesome, sat- 
isfying. 

One more difference we may note, and that is 
that happiness has a moral quality; it is closely 
associated with duty. A great many of our 
pleasures are unmoral; that is, they are merely 
physical or intelligent without any moral issues ; 
they exercise our powers of body or mind, and in 
this healthy, functional activity, we are refreshed 
and delighted. But happiness on the other 
hand takes more account of life as a whole. It 
is a state of mind resulting from many actions, 
and so is inevitably, affected by the moral life 
of a man. 

Noting these differences between pleasure and 
happiness, let us ask ourselves, at the beginning 
of a new year, wherein happiness consists. It is 
not the highest aim. Duty is a greater word 
than happiness. But as I have just said happi- 
ness is closely associated with duty. And, again, 
consciously or unconsciously most of us are seek- 
ing happiness. It is well for us to seek happi- 
ness on the new year, as well as to wish it for 
our friends. But let us try to see a little more 



THE HAPPY LIFE 



15 



clearly, if it may be, what it implies and how 
we are most likely to obtain it. 

If you were to ask the first person you met on 
the street what is happiness, the chances are he 
would say, " oh, to be rich or clever or influ- 
ential, to have whatever you want." And how 
well we know that those things, by and in them- 
selves, do not give happiness. Experience again 
and again has shown the inability of money or 
reputation or influence, in itself, without other 
possessions, to make a man happy. 

Ask your question however of some thoughtful 
person, some one who is worldly wise, and he will 
probably tell you that happiness depends upon 
health, a competency and a good conscience. 
You cannot be happy, he will tell you, if you 
are suffering pain, if you do not know where 
your next dinner is to come from, or if you are 
an evil-minded man. This is an excellent an- 
swer. It seems to meet all requirements. Cer- 
tainly, to be happy one must enjoy good health, 
an assured income, and a clear conscience. There 
is no doubt about the clear conscience; the man 
who lives in fear of detection, of disgrace and 
punishment, cannot be called happy. But good 
health? an assured income? Are these really es- 
sential? Hardly. Among the happy people we 
know many are invalids with their hours or days 



16 CONCERNING LIFE 



of pain ! many are poor, never quite certain what 
their income may be the next year, or even six 
months hence ! And then how often we find dis- 
contented, complaining, disagreeable people who 
have health and money and every reason to be 
happy ! 

It does not require very much reflection to per- 
ceive that happiness depends upon personal 
traits, upon a man's own disposition, upon the 
resources of his inner life. And so we turn from 
the sensible man even as from the thoughtless 
man to ask again wherein happiness lies. This 
time let us look deeper into the matter. What 
are these personal traits, what is the disposition, 
what are the resources that make happiness pos- 
sible ? 

In each one of us there is what we may call 
the individual self, and again the universal self. 
We eat, sleep, exercise, amuse ourselves, and in 
these things consider simply our physical wants. 
We look at pictures, listen to music, read books, 
converse with friends. In these things also we 
are thinking of the needs of our own nature. 
Thus we build up our individual life day by day, 
maintaining health, and cultivating our mind. 

But there are certain interests in our lives we 
may call universal, since they unite us very 
closely with one another, and are the very foun- 



THE HAPPY LIFE 17 



elation of civilization. This is the universal self, 
or the manifestation of the Divine Life in each 
one of us ; just as the rhythm of a large orchestra 
is the manifestation of the conductor's skill 
shown in the many and various instruments. 
Now sympathy is the earliest and simplest ex- 
pression of this universal life. You are hurt if 
you receive a blow ; but do you not wince if you 
see another struck? How often we are indig- 
nant at the sight of some cruelty or even injus- 
tice! Have we not waxed eloquent over out- 
rages in Armenia and Russia! You and I are 
not personally affected, our rights are not mo- 
lested, our self-respect is unimpaired. But that 
is not enough. We indentify, to some degree, 
the poor wretch we know is maltreated with our 
own humanity. In his degradation our own 
manhood suffers. In his need we also are 
pained. 

Another expression of this universal self is 
found in that splendid service so often and so 
freely given to others, friends, acquaintances, 
even strangers. How magnificently it appears 
in the missionaries, the reformers, the philanthro- 
pists of these Christian centuries ! What a stim- 
ulus we find in St. Paul's answer to that far 
away cry from Macedonia ! in the heroic work of 
St. Vincent de Paul among the galley slaves of 



18 



CONCERNING LIFE 



France! in Clara Barton's Red Cross carried 
freely among the contending armies of Europe ! 
in the countless men and women of our day found 
in social settlements and reform movements! 

Yet still another, the highest expression of this 
universal self is seen in the supreme act of sacri- 
fice that springs from the life of service. It is 
the affection of lovers, it is the devotion of the 
mother to her children, it is one life for another, 
as Sidney Carton dying on the scaffold for his 
friend. Greatest of all, it is Jesus living for 
others, forgetful of self, ending a life of tender 
ministration by an ignominious death, when 
cowardice or selfishness would have saved Him. 
That is the permanent ideal of the Christian 
Church — " not to be ministered unto, but to 
minister, and to give one's life a ransom for 
many." In such a life as that of Christ we see 
God made manifest. We see those evidences of 
constant affection, of loyal service, of the will- 
ingness to offer up one's own life to aid the life 
of another, that confirm our faith in the Father- 
hood of God. 

Happiness, I think, is very largely to be found 
in the development of this universal self within 
each one of us. There is little need to advise 
our friends to care for the individual self, with 
the imperious desires of the body and the ac- 



THE HAPPY LIFE 19 



quired tastes of the mind. That part of our 
life is in no danger of neglect. But here is the 
larger self, the life we share with others, the one 
all-embracing life of God in which our lives ex- 
ist, as the life-giving sap flows through root and 
branch and every leaf of the tree, however dif- 
ferent root and branch and leaves may appear. 
And just because our lives have this universal, 
divine element, the best men and women are never 
satisfied with those things that simply minister 
to the physical and intellectual life, but they are 
always seeking a larger realization of themselves 
in human brotherhood. Such a life has its sor- 
rows ; plenty of them I suppose, since the larger 
our life is the more opportunities there are for 
pain to enter it. And yet the men and women 
who live such lives, — and who is not blessed by 
the friendship of such, are they not to be called 
happy? Just because happiness means so much 
more than pleasure or contentment, because it is 
permanent and related to duty, we do speak of 
such lives as happy. They make us happy, and 
we believe they are themselves happy. 

At the close of her great novel, George Eliot 
makes the disciplined and ennobled Romola say 
to the little Lillo, who wished to be a great man 
and a happy man, when he grew up, " We can 
only have the highest happiness, such as goes 



20 CONCERNING LIFE 



along with being a great man, by having wide 
thoughts, and much feeling for the rest of the 
world as well as ourselves : and this sort of happi- 
ness often brings so much pain with it that we 
can only tell it from pain by its being what we 
would choose before everything else, because our 
souls see it is good. And so, my Lillo, if you 
mean to act nobly and seek to know the best 
things God has put within reach of men, you 
must learn to think of that end, and not what 
will happen to you because of it." 

What shall I add, except to say that this uni- 
versal self, this life of sympathy and fellow 
service is the movement of the indwelling Spirit 
among men? And does it not follow that as we 
yield to this influence and enter more and more 
into the varied interests of others, their labors, 
their sorrows, their j oys, their ambitions, our own 
lives do become nobler, more beneficent, more 
Christ-like, more worthy to reveal the Father- 
hood of God unto other men! 



LIFE AS A FINE ART 

Be ye therefore 'perfect, even as your Father 
which is in Heaven is perfect. — Matt, v, 48. 

This great fifth chapter of Matthew closes 
with the exhortation to perfection. The Chris- 
tian is to aim at nothing less than the divine life. 
If the words of Jesus seem exaggerated it is be- 
cause we think of our weakness ; because we more 
often observe life at the bottom than at the top. 
Every judgment depends upon the point of view. 
No one would dream of saying to the average 
school boy, write like Shakespeare, paint like 
Raphael, compose like Beethoven. Rut when- 
ever we come upon the exceptional youth, some 
boy endowed with the creative gift, we bid him 
aim at the greatest things. We tell the young 
poet to study Shakespeare and Milton. We ad- 
vise the young artist to go to the art schools of 
Rome and Paris. This " Counsel of Perfec- 
tion " Christ uttered to picked men, His chosen 
disciples, to the Apostles who were to carry on 
21 



22 



CONCERNING LIFE 



His work after He should lay it down. Any 
aim less than the highest, therefore, would have 
been unworthy of Him and of them. For it is 
only as we keep the highest in mind, only as we 
steadily refuse the lower success, that we can ever 
reach the heights. The divine exhortation is ad- 
dressed to men and women who expect to grow in 
character, to attain unto the richer life of faith, 
to press forward in the footsteps of Christ, to 
live even in this world as Sons of God. 

And it is the inestimable privilege of the Chris- 
tian to believe that all progress in this life aids 
progress in the life to come; that whatever in- 
tellectual and moral gains we make in this world 
directly serve us in the world to come. 

" Fearless and unperplext, 
When I wage battle next, 
What weapons to select, what armor to en- 
due." 

Be ye therefore perfect! The words suggest 
life as an art, as a fine art, as some rare and 
precious yield of creative power. That is to say, 
a man may have something of that feeling 
towards his own life that the artist has for his 
picture, the poet for his verse, the musician for 
his score. It shall express his thought, it shall 
be worthily clothed in action, it shall give delight 



LIFE AS A FINE ART 



23 



to all who can appreciate the labor and the result. 
This is, in fact, the analysis of every work of 
art, whether it is a Greek statue, an Italian paint- 
ing or a German symphony. There are ex- 
actly these three elements that enter into its com- 
position. First, there is the ideal, that is the 
thought in the creative mind, the something the 
artist wishes to say to his fellow-men, whether 
he is a sculptor, a painter or a musician. It is 
something we do not see but which he sees and 
wants to make evident to us. 

Then there is the sensuous form in which this 
ideal must be expressed if we are to see or hear 
and understand. It may be the horror and 
agony of the offending priest when the twin 
serpents bind him and his young sons in their 
terrible folds, as all that suffering is shown in 
the Laocoon. It may be maternal love and di- 
vine pity as they are represented in Holbein's 
Madonna and the Burgomaster's family. Or 
it may seek to indicate the fierce strife and final 
triumph of life as we hear it all in the Fifth 
Symphony of Beethoven. By his special gift, 
whatever it may be, the artist clothes his ideal, 
bodies it forth in some form that may be known 
and understood of men. 

And lastly, there is the uplift of spirit that 
comes to the beholder in the presence of a master- 



CONCERNING LIFE 



piece, a permanent delight for each succeeding 
generation brought face to face with an ideal 
that creative thought has made real in some ob- 
jective form. " A thing of beauty is a joy for- 
ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass 
into nothingness." 

These then are the three elements of every 
work of art, — the ideal, the form in which it is 
expressed and the delight it awakens. Now may 
not human life be lived so that it shall impress us 
in similar fashion? What man can do with 
marble, with paint and canvas, with musical in- 
struments, that shall he not also be able to do 
with his own life? 

It is an ancient saying that man is the archi- 
tect of his own fortunes. To a great extent this 
is true as regards material prosperity and a pub- 
lic career. To a much greater degree it is true 
as regards his own personality and the develop- 
ment of his character. All our judgments upon 
one another are based upon the assumption that 
we are rational, self-directing creatures, that 
from day to day we have the power of choice, 
that we can make of our lives pretty much what 
we will. If we ask ourselves what should be the 
ideal in human life, I think we all would answer 
that the manifestation and the perfection of our 
personality is the true function of the free man. 



LIFE AS A FINE ART 



25 



Our intellectual life, our moral aims, our sym- 
pathies, these constitute our personality. These 
are the spiritual traits. They are a deeper part 
of our self than our physical traits or any pos- 
sessions we may acquire. When we speak of our 
self, when we say " I," we mean the inner man, 
the soul, the spirit, our individuality, that some- 
thing which others do not see, but which they 
can, in part at least, apprehend through our 
lives. Personality is the inner citadel where we 
entrench ourselves when foes assail and conquer 
our fortune, our health, our reputation, our 
friendships, our work. That was the thought 
of W. E. Henley, a gifted poet who recently 
died in England after a short and unhappy life. 

" It matters not how straight the gate, 
How charged with punishment the scroll, 
I am the master of my fate, 
I am the captain of my soul." 

At times this personality can show itself only 
in heroic endurance of the crowding ills of life. 
Money, health, occupation, friends even, may 
fail, yet the man remains strong in his conscious 
integrity, as Job amid his foolish friends. It is 
the knowledge of this inner life, the conviction 
that the spirit is above the reach of physical ills 
that sustained the early martyrs in their suffer- 



26 CONCERNING LIFE 



ings, that upholds the ridiculed reformer of our 
day in his unsuccessful labors, and that gives 
constancy and peace and even happiness to many 
a man and woman for whom life has seemed to 
mean only failure and sorrow. " For who 
would lose, though full of pain, this intellectual 
being, those thoughts that wander through eter- 
nity?" 

More often, however, life lays many gifts in 
the cradle of the child, and the long, useful, hon- 
ored, happy career of the man serves to make 
real to us the high purpose, the unfaltering faith, 
the tender sympathy, the untiring zeal, the culti- 
vated spirit, all this inner, spiritual growth of 
the friend we have known and loved. Now this 
life of the spirit is what we have in mind when 
we speak of character, of that most precious pos- 
session we can ever have. In the truest, deepest 
sense the man of character is religious. He may 
not bow at our shrine, he may not call himself a 
Christian, he may not be seen in the church or 
take the attitude of prayer. But whoever prizes 
this inner life of the spirit above any and all 
outward gains, whoever maintains it under any 
and all circumstances, that man has a belief in 
goodness, a faith in the moral order of the world, 
a confidence in the eventual triumph of truth, 
that is nothing less than religious. We are com- 



LIFE AS A FINE ART 27 



ing to see that to-day, as never before in the his- 
tory of the world. The theist as well as the 
Christian, the agnostic as well as the believer, the 
Hindoo, Parsee, Moslem, the poet, statesman and 
scientist — all these we judge, not by their pro- 
fession of belief or of unbelief, a profession of 
unbelief is rather in fashion now, but by the 
personal character as it appears in their lives. 
" Human character is a lens through which God 
shines." All upright men are of that great and 
impressive Household of Faith in which the Holy 
Spirit dwells. Some such thought as this, I 
think, was in the mind of Christ when He bade 
His disciples aim at divine perfection. If that 
wonderful fifth chapter of the Gospel is still be- 
yond our attainment, it nevertheless remains as 
the ideal of the Christian, the path our feet 
should tread, the object of our prayers. For in 
Christ it was realized. In His purity, in His 
spirit of forgiveness, in His love of mercy, we 
can trace the Divine Lineaments. The reverence 
we show Him, our aspiration for that perfect 
life, and even the very feeling that it is beyond 
our present powers — all these bear witness to 
our recognition that this is the permanent stand- 
ard for human effort. 

The artist, as we have seen, shows the ideal in 
that form in which his individual genius is at 



28 CONCERNING LIFE 



home. We do not criticize the poem, we give 
thanks for another masterpiece. The noble va- 
riety of labor we recognize also, as never before 
in the history of the world. There was a time 
when history was divided into sacred and pro- 
fane. The Scriptures, devotional books, the 
lives of the saints — this was sacred writing for 
the edification of men, in comparison with which 
politics, history, literature and scientific works 
were deemed profane, that is secular, interesting 
to be sure, useful often, but of far less impor- 
tance than the knowledge of God to be obtained 
in the sacred writings. That difference no 
longer holds. No one now would make such a 
distinction. For cultivated minds, Darwin's 
Origin of Species would be thought as religious 
a work as the Imitation of Christ. So also there 
was a time when the priest was believed to be a 
man of God in a sense that the scientist, the 
statesman, the merchant, could not be. The 
ministry was called the sacred profession, the 
clergyman a divine. In Puritan New England 
the clergyman had something of that authority 
and reverence that attaches to the person and 
words of the Catholic priest. All that has 
passed out of modern thought, happily. That 
is not because there is less respect for a good 
man, but because there are many good men. We 



LIFE AS A FINE ART 29 



advise young men to enter the ministry only when 
we think they are fitted to carry on the work of 
that important profession. Personal character, 
the great ideal of life, is quite as often seen in 
one as in another profession. In the monumen- 
tal biography of Gladstone so many of us have 
read we learn that this remarkable man for some- 
time hesitated between the church and politics. 
He chose the latter; but the most conspicuous 
feature of that long, brilliant, valued public 
career was the conscience of the man as seen in 
the religious spirit, the moral enthusiasm, the 
personal responsibility he carried into his mighty 
labors as well as into his rare hours of leisure. 
In the course of his life he gave away more than 
three hundred thousand dollars to religious and 
charitable work. Like the ancient Hebrew, he 
believed that a tenth of his income should be set 
aside for such purposes. His particular private 
effort in reform was directed to the reclamation 
of fallen women, efforts we perceive that might 
very easily be misunderstood, an aspect of this 
noble life little known. 

Our life can express our ideal. The material 
with which we work may be poor ; that is often 
the case. It is far more splendid to work in 
literature or statesmanship or scientific research 
than cobbling shoes or doing housework. But 



SO CONCERNING LIFE 



the essential thing is that the man's labor should 
express the workman's ideal. Carlyle, you re- 
member, praised his dead father for the honest 
work he put into the stone bridge at Ecclefechan. 
" Conduct is the trumpet held at the lips of char- 
acter," is one of the splendid sayings of Phillips 
Brooks. All experience, all observation illus- 
trate this truth. The ideal of a man's life is in 
his secret thought. Only as he expresses it in 
his daily living can we know it. The pious 
speech of the prayer meeting, the fine sentiments 
of the orator, the cultivated taste of the scholar, 
the moral convictions of the reformer are of value 
to the world only as the world can see them in 
the building of the daily life among us. " By 
their fruits ye shall know them," said Jesus. By 
the fruits, not by the roots. What we ask of the 
religious man and woman is that we shall, 

" See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds, 
With love and joy triumphing." 

Thus we come to the final element in every 
work of art — the satisfaction it yields to others, 
our deep-seated, permanent joy in perfection. 
The parent finds his exceeding reward for those 
long years of care and expense and personal sac- 
rifice in the useful and honorable manhood of his 
child. " A wise son maketh a glad father." 



LIFE AS A FINE ART 31 



That truth was early discovered in Israel. Par- 
ents desire many things for their children, 
health, happiness, money, distinction, friends; 
but they well know that the essential thing is that 
their boys and girls shall grow up into good men 
and women. For that object their prayers as- 
cend; for that result their unceasing labor is ex- 
pended. 

The worldly success we view with ungrudging 
eye is that of the man of high character. We 
even take a solid satisfaction in the wealth of the 
man who has a sense of stewardship, in the talent 
of the artist whose mind is clean, in the career 
of the statesman with a conscience. 

When we lay away our dead there is nothing 
of so much comfort as the memory of an un- 
stained life. 

" Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, 
Dispraise or blame, nothing but well and fair 
And what may quiet us in a death so noble." 

Life in all its periods of youth, maturity and 
even of the gradual failure of bodily vigor, can 
express your ideal of personal character, can 
awaken joy and noble emulation in the mind of 
the friend and neighbor, can, in the inspiring 
thought of Christ, give us hints of the divine 



32 



CONCERNING LIFE 



perfection. " Human character," let me quote 
Phillips Brooks again, " is a lens through which 
God shines." In the best men and women, even 
as in the life of Christ Himself, we see the Divine 
Lineaments and thus our hearts are reassured. 
" Blessed are the pure in heart," said Jesus, 
" for they shall see God." 



IV 



THE LIBERTY OF THE INNER LIFE 

— where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is 
liberty. — II Cor. hi, 17. 

Liberty is an iridescent bubble always float- 
ing before the eyes of men. Who of us does not 
at times sigh for complete independence, free- 
dom from all outward restraint, whether it be the 
laws of the state or the customs of the commu- 
nity! We want to live our own lives, following 
out our own bent, granting unto others, it may 
be added, an equal privilege, doing as we wish 
from day to day, undertaking only those tasks 
that especially appeal to us, turning at will from 
work to play, free, happy, self-contained. 
That has seemed to many a thoughtless youth, 
to many a weary man, the enviable life. Its 
realization is one of the incentives to make 
money. Wealth alone seems to make possible 
this life of leisure and independence and happi- 
ness. 

Well, there is nothing new in this vision. It 



CONCERNING LIFE 



is not a modern conception of life. It is as 
ancient as human society, it is as natural as the 
desire for food or the love of companionship. 

In the Republic of Plato we have a brilliant 
picture of this conception of liberty. He is de- 
scribing the son of a rich man for his youthful 
friend Glaucon. " So he lives through the day, 
indulging the appetite of the hour ; and some- 
times he is lapped in drink and the strains of the 
flute ; then he is for total abstinence and tries to 
get thin : then, again, he is at gymnastics : some- 
times idling and neglecting everything : then 
once more living the life of a philosopher ; often 
he is at politics, and starts to his feet and says 
and does anything that may turn up : and if he 
is emulous of any one who is a warrior off he is 
in that direction, or of men of business, once 
more in that. His life has neither law nor or- 
der : and this is the way of him — this he terms 
joy and freedom and happiness. " Then Glau- 
con replies " Admirably have you described the 
life of a man of freedom." 

Plato was a great artist and he has painted 
a perennial type of character. There is another 
name for it, however, beside the man of freedom, 
— the idler. He is at one end of the social 
scale what the tramp is at the other. When we 
see him he does not appear to us quite so ad- 



THE INNER LIFE 35 



mirable. He has an incurable disease — the 
softening of the will. Like a spoiled child, he 
picks up a toy and a moment later throws it 
away. It is a slavery only less odious than that 
of the victim of intemperance, gaming or licen- 
tiousness. What we see in such lives is not lib- 
erty but lawlessness. He is not under the con- 
trol of his spirit, but of his passions. His 
masters are many. 

What is possible for us all is the liberty of 
the inner life; freedom from passion, an aim for 
our efforts, a guiding principle. It is the ra- 
tional life, the life of manhood as distinguished 
from that of childhood. The whole purpose of 
education is to train boys and girls in self con- 
trol, judgment, principle, character, so that their 
lives shall not be aimless, but useful, honorable, 
happy. Sometimes this knowledge and power 
come early in a man's experience, sometimes late. 
But not until we clearly perceive that only that 
man is free who has himself well in hand, who has 
his ambition, who can deny himself, who is not 
afraid of work, who can rise above the vexations 
and disappointments of the days, are we on the 
road to freedom. 

" Lord of himself though not of lands, 
And having nothing yet hath all." 



36 



CONCERNING LIFE 



Let us bring this type of character concretely 
before us, even as we saw in Plato's picture the 
man of lawless life. 

At the close of that great novel, Anna K are- 
nine, Tolstoy gives us a parting glimpse of 
Levine, the real hero of the story, a character 
with so much resemblance to the author that we 
are led to think of it as autobiographical. Le- 
vine is a serious man. The scepticism of his 
set has never wholly taken possession of him, 
although he has lost all sympathy with the super- 
stitions of the people. He is not content with 
seeking pleasure in a gay life, as his brother-in- 
law Stiva does, nor is he interested in scientific 
theories to the exclusion of the personal interest 
in life, as some of his friends are. His thought 
continually comes back to the questions, What 
does life mean? What is my life for? How 
can I realize it? At last he finds the answer, 
and his life henceforth has its poise. Hence- 
forth, whatever events may bring to him he has 
won his freedom of spirit, he has gained the lib- 
erty of the inner life. " I shall probably con- 
tinue to get out of temper with my coachman, to 
go into useless arguments, to air my ideas un- 
seasonably; I shall always feel a barrier be- 
tween the sanctuary of my soul and the soul of 
other people, even that of my wife ; I shall always 



THE INNER LIFE 37 



be holding her responsible for my annoyances 
and feeling sorry for it directly afterwards; I 
shall continue to pray without being able to ex- 
plain to myself why I pray; but my inner life 
has won its liberty; it will no longer be at the 
mercy of events, and every minute of my exist- 
ence will have a meaning sure and profound 
which it will be in my power to impress upon 
every single one of my actions, that of being 
good." 

What Levine had learned was that life was 
to be ruled by reason and conscience. He was 
emancipated from the slavery of caprice. Life 
would still have it vexations, its trials, its disap- 
pointments. " It must needs be that offenses 
come," said Jesus. But they would all come and 
go leaving untouched the deeper springs of his 
being. His heart is fixed. In that determina- 
tion to live by reason and conscience, or as he 
put it to himself " being good," he found his 
strength and peace. Now this, I think, is what 
St. Paul meant to say in our text, " Where the 
spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." The his- 
tory of all these Christian centuries abounds with 
instances of this life of the spirit. Far more 
than any other influence this spirit of religion, 
for such it is, has carried men safely through 
the perils of life. Let us take as an illustration 



38 CONCERNING LIFE 



one of the most common experiences. We all 
know many poor, hard-working, barely educated 
men and women whose lives seem to us meagre 
in the extreme, without external advantages or 
inner culture. We have a mingled sentiment of 
pity and horror when we see them at their work, 
in their homes, and even in their amusements. 
Yet in conversation with them we often find a 
strength of character, a moral elevation, a quiet 
and abiding content, that gives us a feeling of 
awe. What is it, we ask, that gives them this 
enviable power, what makes this impression of 
superiority upon us? Often it appears to be 
something we do not ourselves possess. We are 
curious for the secret. Well, it is what Levine, 
what Tolstoy, what St. Paul, what the disciple 
of Christ in every age has found — that while 
the outward life is largely determined by cir- 
cumstances, our inner life can be serene and beau- 
tiful through our faith in God. 

Some years ago I was brought into relation 
with such a character. She was an elderly 
woman, a widow, poor, so deaf that conversa- 
tion was an effort, and she gave her time now 
to one and then to another of her numerous rela- 
tives as their sickness made her presence desir- 
able. I found her caring for an aged woman, 
an unhappy and uninteresting person, whom it 



THE INNER LIFE 



39 



was never a pleasure for me to see. From the 
first moment I saw that woman's face, its strength 
and peace, I knew she lived in the spirit. And 
when through an ear trumpet I said to her, " I 
am glad you are here, you can do much for our 
friend," she answered, " Yes, it seems the Lord's 
will that I should be here." Later, I went to 
see her when she was struggling with one of 
those horrible diseases that prey upon our hu- 
manity, and I found that same serene acquies- 
cence in a hard fate, that same holy confidence in 
a Divine Will, that made me feel as if I stood 
in the house of prayer. My call did little for 
her, I fear; but it did much for me. I saw the 
strength and beauty of religion in that life so 
barren of all that you and I strive for in our 
common ambitions, in our love of pleasure, in our 
desire for culture. It was the peace of God 
that passeth the understanding of the man of 
the world. She lived in the freedom of the 
spirit. Ller heart was fixed upon the eternal 
things. 

Or let us take another illustration, one that is 
perhaps as familiar. Let it be the man of afflu- 
ent surroundings, natural refinement, cultivated 
tastes, with every opportunity to live a self-in- 
dulgent life. Yet he leaves undone no duty that 
comes to him, faithful in the home where sim- 



40 



CONCERNING LIFE 



plicity is the standard, loyal to all requirements 
of good citizenship, and from his wealth of lei- 
sure and judgment devoting his days to an un- 
paid public service. In conversation with him I 
am always impressed by Iris feeling of responsi- 
bility, not only that his own life shall be noble, 
but that the life about him shall be better. His 
interests are many, Iris sympathies are broad, his 
time as well as his money are at the service of 
those in need. I think of a word of Marcus 
Aurelius, the stoic emperor. " Even in a 
palace life may be lived nobly." He does not 
speak of his religious life. Men are chary of 
speech upon that subject. They are a little 
afraid of sentiment. Outside of the home they 
are on their guard, not wishing to show warmth 
of feeling for fear of misunderstanding or im- 
position. Yet in this saint, as in the other, it 
is the religious nature that controls, steadies and 
uplifts the man's life. 

As I reflect upon these two lives, typical as 
they are, I remember those great words of the 
Apostle. " I have learned in whatsoever state I 
am, therewith to be content. I know both how 
to be abased, and I know how to abound: every- 
where and in all things I am instructed both tc 
be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to 
suffer need. I can do all things through Christ 



THE INNER LIFE 



41 



which strengthened me." That is the wonder- 
ful triumph of religion in every age — it can 
lift men above the present distress and perplex- 
ity and give them peace. It is even more true 
of religion than of philosophy — that " if it 
cannot bake bread, it gives us God and Freedom 
and Immortality." 

Two things are always in our power — to be 
good and to do good. Everywhere around us 
we see individuals who are so living that our own 
faith in goodness is helped. In thousands of 
modest homes, and in many a modern palace the 
Christian spirit shines like a lighthouse on a 
stormy coast, and we can see how to trim our 
course. 

" Moral life is the gift of God, is God," says 
a great writer, and this true life, this union with 
God, the prayer of every Christian, we attain 
through Christ. We need not go outside Chris- 
tendom. For us who are born in Christendom, 
who have entered into the inheritance of Christ's 
words, freedom and strength, are found in Chris- 
tion discipleship. In the beautiful words of the 
Anglican service " whose service is perfect free- 
dom." The vital thing is the wide influence, the 
timeless inspiration, the spirit of life that was 
in Jesus Christ. Are we in touch, in conscious 
sympathy with His conception of life? If we 



42 CONCERNING LIFE 



are, and who cannot be, who ought not to be in 
such happy discipleship ? then, as the years come 
and go bringing their varied gifts, we are free 
men, resolute, courageous, at peace with God and 
ourselves. 



THE BUILDER WITH THE SWORD 

For the builders, every one had his sword 
girded by his side, and so budded. — Nehemiah 
iv, 18. 

In this interesting episode of a national his- 
tory we may find an epitome of all constructive 
effort, of the attempts men are always making 
to establish institutions or to rear the fortunes 
of their own lives. The arts of peace and the 
arts of war are found together. The men who 
construct must also be prepared to defend. The 
builder must have his sword at his side. 

Is it not just this union of constructive and 
defensive effort we see in the family life? Every 
young man anticipates the time when, in self- 
reliant and vigorous manhood, he shall establish 
his own home, caring for wife and children, la- 
boring zealously for their prosperity and hap- 
piness, feeling an honest pride that his children 
shall take their place among the favored families 
of the neighborhood. Certainly, the devotion to 
43 



44 



CONCERNING LIFE 



business interests many young men show is a 
hopeful augury. Other things being equal, each 
generation ought to be an improvement over the 
preceding one. Families, like states, ought to 
progress upon the stepping stones of experi- 
ence. But we readily see that the architect of 
the home must also be the guardian of its in- 
tegrity. If one hand holds a trowel the other 
must grasp the sword. The moral failure in so 
many families is most often due to a neglect of 
very common, very necessary precautions. 
Many a well meaning parent is so absorbed in 
making money that he has little time for per- 
sonal acquaintance with his growing family. 
He gives them a comfortable home, he wishes 
them to have an excellent education, opportuni- 
ties for travel and the intercourse with culti- 
vated people. In fact, the one advantage many 
a favored youth does not have is his father's 
society. Often the parent who has toiled and 
sacrificed for the home he loves, who believes 
he has done all possible to equip his sons for 
their coming career, discovers that his son's mind 
is an unknown land, that his boy has interests, 
companions, amusements, occupations, of which 
he has had no suspicion. The father has been 
simply the bread-winner of the family, while the 
training of his sons has been left to the mother. 



THE BUILDER WITH THE SWORD 45 



who, from her very nature, cannot know all the 
desires, the temptations, the opportunities for 
self-indulgence that await every healthy, high- 
spirited boy. The institution of the family is 
a sacred task. It means more than ample pro- 
vision for material comfort, it means also a 
moral equipment for the future generation. 
The wise parent will be a boy with his boys, a 
young man with his young men. He will know 
their tastes and their temptations, he will be a 
companion as well as a father, and while he la- 
bors to give them every possible advantage he 
will guard their young lives from evil influences. 
Indolence, Extravagance, Self-indulgence, are 
enemies that ever threaten the rising walls of 
character. Build the home, but guard its pu- 
rity. It takes time, and often mental exertion, 
to share the interests of the younger life; the 
walls will seem to rise more slowly as one hand 
protects the youthful mind from the insidious ap- 
proaches of evil, but the solid and noble edifice 
of the home will arise, and it will endure. 

In the state also, as in the family, there is the 
same need for watchfulness as the foundations 
of a secure and stable government are laid. As 
we read the words of our text — " For the build- 
ers, every one had his sword girded by his side, 
and so builded," our imagination turns to the 



46 



CONCERNING LIFE 



historic colonies of the world, to the heroic little 
companies that have left the mother country to 
plant a new nation in a distant land. And espe- 
cially do we think of that hardy band of men 
and women that nearly three centuries ago 
braved the winters of our New England coast, 
caring only that they might worship God after 
their own manner; in a very literal way indeed 
building the town with sword and musket by 
their side. How wonderful it was, that exodus 
of pious men from the cultivated land of Eng- 
land, that grim determination to conquer a stub- 
born soil and rigorous winters while hostile In- 
dians looked on with anxiety and alarm, that 
superb victory of the spirit over untoward cir- 
cumstances ! Even to-day our pulse beats faster 
as we read the heroic tale and we boast the Puri- 
tan blood in our veins ! This splendid heritage 
has come to us because while the Fathers built 
the Commonwealth they also guarded the moral 
life of the people. They organized the church, 
they opened schools, they founded colleges. 
There were internal foes to be repressed as well 
as hostile savages to be restrained. Ignorance, 
Superstition, Vice and Crime were to be kept 
down as their numbers grew and the common 
wants of life were assured. Priestly Tyranny 
and Royal Usurpation were to be guarded 



THE BUILDER WITH THE SWORD 47 



against as the towns increased and vessels lined 
the wharves. They were not satisfied to have 
prosperous towns and cities, they wanted a godly 
life as well, and so while they held town meet- 
ings and developed a trade with the old country 
they exercised a careful, a minute, even an exas- 
perating watch over the actions of the citizens. 
Well has that Puritan foundation been compared 
with the Hebrew theocracy after which it was 
modeled. It has changed, greatly changed, in 
these three centuries of invention and discovery, 
but representative government, the public school 
system, and the moral standard still endure as 
mighty influences. 

The same qualities are needed to-day among 
the men who are shaping our political life. 
Even while they build they must guard the char- 
acter of the citizens. It is not enough to extend 
the line of civilization, bringing the western 
prairies under cultivation, admitting territories 
into statehood, acquiring colonies, and developing 
international trade; the integrity of office and 
the character of citizenship are of even more 
importance. Very serious evils threaten our re- 
public. The arts of defence as well as of ex- 
tension must be cultivated. A man cannot read 
of municipal corruption in our great cities, or 
the fraudulent practices of great corporations, 



48 



CONCERNING LIFE 



or the fierce conflicts of labor and capital without 
a feeling of fear for the future of this great 
nation. No demand of this age is more im- 
perative than that for good citizenship. It is 
not enough to cast one's vote, a man must see 
that he has good men to vote for. Official cor- 
ruption is the charge the civilized world brings 
against oui representative government. Every 
high-minded man, and such, I believe, are still in 
the great majority, feels humiliated when he 
thinks of the apathy, the criminal neglect, that 
has permitted " certain lewd fellows of the baser 
sort " to secure and retain public office. Our 
statesmen and merchants have labored diligently 
to build up a material prosperity, but they have 
laid aside their swords, and public enemies have 
crept into our midst. Partisanship, Official-cor- 
ruption, Public-plunder, Class-hatred have stolen 
in upon us, and even while we extend our bound- 
aries our strength is being undermined. The 
statesman, the merchant, each voter, must be a 
warrior as well as a builder. Finely did the 
Colonial orator say " Eternal vigilance is the 
price of liberty." So must the patriot of every 
age feel when he chooses his man and casts his 
vote. He must never lay aside the sword of the 
divining spirit, but must labor even as the Puri- 
tan Fathers, even as the Hebrew Patriot, who 



THE BUILDER WITH THE SWORD 49 



" with one of his hands wrought in the work, and 
with the other hand held a weapon." 

In the Church also, as in state and family, the 
preparation for defense must go hand in hand 
with the arts of peace. It is not only in the 
inception of a new movement and in missionary 
work that the pioneer must be able to build or 
fight as occasion demands ; but in our modern 
church life edification and discipline are equally 
necessary. Fortunately or unfortunately, ac- 
cording as w r e value the purpose of discipline, the 
Christian Church is subject to the same dangers 
that beset every other organization. We have 
only to read the Epistles of St. Paul to the early 
Christians to learn that even in Apostolic times 
the Church did not escape worldliness, rivalry 
and dissension. It is a great mistake to believe 
that it was any easier to be a Christian nineteen 
centuries ago than it is to-da}^. There are few 
temptations that beset the modern Christian 
which the disciple of St. Paul did not have to 
withstand. The situation of the early Church 
was that of the Apostle himself — " foes without 
and fears within." The Christian Church reared 
its walls and vanquished its foes because while it 
disseminated its faith it also disciplined its mem- 
bers. The Epistles of St. Paul are in two divi- 
sions, the first speculative, a statement of Chris- 



50 



CONCERNING LIFE 



tian doctrine, and the second practical, very- 
simple and earnest appeals for good conduct. 
And all through the checkered career of Chris- 
tianity, from its humble beginning to its 
present magnificent proportions, its progress 
has been due as much to its guard over the con- 
duct of its members as to its vast missionary 
efforts. 

It is so to-day wherever earnest men and 
women are trying to build a church in a busy 
community. " The Old Adam " is one of the 
first to join the society. It is an inspiring sight 
to watch the efforts of serious men and women 
in such a noble task. Full of enthusiasm they 
build their church, engage their minister, and 
organize their missionary work. But the sword 
of the spirit must ever be at the side of the 
builder! Rivalry, Jealousy, Dissension, are in- 
sidious foes always lying in wait for young and 
enthusiastic societies. And as any given church 
grows and prospers new enemies, unexpected 
dangers, appear — as Worldliness, Indolence, 
Indifference, and move within the sacred walls, a 
constant menace. " Wherefore let him that 
thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall," was 
the warning of the Apostle. It might seem as 
if the man engaged in some great work could 
feel free from all anxiety about his inner life. 



THE BUILDER WITH THE SWORD 51 



But no, it is not so. The biography of all re- 
formers teaches us this need of a constant watch 
over the personal life, however exacting and 
noble the task that engages its powers. It was 
so in the life of Christ. Not only do we read 
of His activity, His ministration to the sick 
and poor, His uplifting words to discouraged 
men, but we read that He went apart, up the 
mountain side or in the olive garden, for prayer 
and meditation. The Christian Church, like its 
Master, cannot be content with good works, but 
must also guard as its dearest possession its 
inner purity. 

We might, in like manner, glance at other 
great institutions men are rearing, the law, our 
social life, education, the reforms of the day, 
and in all of them we should see this same need 
for the art of the builder and the skill of the 
soldier. Build the walls, yes; that is of great 
importance. But be sure of the people within 
the enclosure, that is of even more importance. 
Perfect the law, elevate social life, improve edu- 
cation, extend the reform; but in all this work 
watch carefully the motives and the means, guard 
against the unworthy, keep the spirit free and 
unspoiled. 

In these remaining minutes, however, let me 
speak of individual experience. Here, even as 



52 CONCERNING LIFE 



in our institutional life, the text finds abundant 
illustration. And first of all, even as the He- 
brew builder returned from a long exile to the 
sacred city, do we think of the repentant man 
who seeks to rebuild the broken w T alls of char- 
acter, weary of his wandering, loathing the husks 
and the swine, and in the former places trying 
to regain the old joy and homely service. How 
fine the spectacle! How hard the task! The 
old self-respect, the old confidence of friends, the 
old hope of the fond father, all these are to be 
brought back into the old place. But the doubt 
of neighbors, the scorn of the Pharisee, the half- 
sympathy of the elder brother, are dangerous 
enemies to the returning conscience. Yes, even 
deadlier foes lie in wait as the memories of dissi- 
pated hours and idle habits linger around the 
ruined shrine. It is no easy labor for him w T ho 
would retrace his steps from " the primrose path 
of dalliance." You in your respectability, in 
your proud confidence of integrity, you the elder 
brother, cannot easily understand the labor and 
the constant trial. How straight and solid the 
walls of your own life stand! "Foes without 
and fears within." That is the terrible situa- 
tion of the man or woman who would regain a 
forfeited position in society. " Parson," said 
the old toper, " I have made enough effort to 



THE BUILDER WITH THE SWORD 53 



keep out of the gutter to keep a dozen men like 
you sober." An infinite charity, a divine pa- 
tience, should be our feeling for the repentant 
soul. And for him — with only one hand may 
he rebuild the wall of character, with the other 
must he grasp the sword of faith. 

Even in your lives also, you the respectable 
and self-respecting men and women, there is 
need of this twofold task. It is so easy to see 
the dangers of vicious surroundings, they are so 
gigantic, they boldly leap over the scattered 
stones and possess the sacred place. But the 
respectable man has his foes, perhaps even more 
dangerous because they are often unsuspected. 
Self-righteousness, Severity, Pride, Vanity, these 
are as fatal to the Christian life as the less re- 
fined sins. That is the reason that fiction has 
so often revolted from the portrayal of the irre- 
proachable character, and delighted to repre- 
sent a passionate, generous heart expressing 
its native kindness amid unlovely surround- 
ings. Dickens and Bret Harte and Kipling have 
taught us to look for the primary virtues of 
sympathy and helpfulness whatever the condi- 
tions of the individual life. And as long as the 
Gospel is read the figure of the Pharisee, stand- 
ing in his self-complacency in the very temple 
itself, unabashed before the Lord of life, is a 



54 



CONCERNING LIFE 



reproach and a warning to all complacent Chris- 
tians. 

Our text may well find its closing illustration 
in the lives of those who are especially favored 
by wealth or talent or power. The man of two 
talents, the average man whom we meet in our 
homes, in the market place, in the church, al- 
ways looks with envy upon the neighbor who 
has received five talents. Wealth, talent, power, 
these are the envy and the ambition of the great 
masses of men. But in the desire for the five 
talents it is often forgotten that they bring a 
greater responsibility and also their own dan- 
gers. It is very easy to imagine we could be 
nobler if the circumstances of our life were dif- 
ferent. But no state of life is so splendid that 
danger does not threaten it, even as the sword 
suspended by a hair menaced the happiness of 
the eastern king. It is not an easy thing for 
wealth to maintain its sense of stewardship, or 
for genius to feel that it is amenable to the 
common law, or for power to lend itself to the 
nobler aim. Frivolity always dogs the steps of 
wealth — Lawlessness lurks near the brilliant 
genius, Selfishness is always among the follow- 
ers of power. To the man of five talents who 
would meet his lord with the rich increase watch- 
fulness as well as service is indispensable. The 



THE BUILDER WITH THE SWORD 55 



Christian life is one for the highly gifted and 
for the humble alike. For each must guard 
against the temptations of his nature even while 
he expresses his life in good deeds. Indeed, 
the greater the opportunity, and that is simply 
what wealth and genius and influence mean, the 
greater the opportunity, the greater the danger. 
Electricity may convey you safely home, or it 
may kill a careless lineman. Education may 
mean a broader type of Christian or it may 
yield a more astute criminal. It is not the num- 
ber of talents, but their use and increase that 
merits the " Well done " of the Master. 

So we turn back to these luminous words that 
light up for us so many of life's successes and 
failures — " For the builders, every one had his 
sword girded by his side, and so builded," with 
an added sense of their meaning, their spiritual 
content that far transcends the deed of those 
Hebrew patriots and epitomizes for us the un- 
ending conflict of humanity as amid the evils of 
life it slowly but steadily erects the ramparts of 
Christian character. 



VI 



THE GIRDED LOIN AND THE BURNING 
LAMP 

Let your loins be girded about, and your lights 
burning; and ye yourselves like unto men that 
wait for their lord, when he will return from the 
wedding; that when he cometh and knocketh, 
they may open unto him immediately. — Luke 
xii, 35, 36. 

The text I have taken from St. Luke and the 
parable I have read from St. Matthew, teach the 
same lesson of fitness, readiness, preparation for 
the great occasions of life. Good intentions and 
fitful energy do not insure success. There must 
be a prudent foresight. For all the great mo- 
ments of experience, whether of joy or sorrow, of 
privilege or responsibility, of release from care 
or added hardship, there is necessary the girded 
loin and the burning light. 

If the close of the parable seems hard, it is 
only the more true to life. Again and again 
men fail because they are not equal to their op- 
56 



THE GIRDED LOIN 



57 



portunity. It is an old observation, one wise 
men have always made and so represented life 
as a school or a gymnasium or a barracks. And 
never was the need for special preparation 
greater than in these days of severe competi- 
tion. If young men were wise, as they rarely 
are, if they could read the signs of the times, 
they would make better preparation for the high 
positions they are ambitious to fill. Personal 
ambition is a spur in the side of self-indulgence. 
Few of us can do much without its incessant 
pricking. Few of us are, indeed, without it. 
But many of us lack application, we belittle 
the days of preparation, we have an expecta- 
tion that fortune will favor us, that vigorous 
pushing or paternal influence will get us the 
coveted place when we are through with our 
" good times " and want to settle down to work. 
We dream of great things, but we do not get 
ready to do them. That is the reason most 
of us fail in our ambitions, and content ourselves 
with criticizing those who do succeed. When 
some lordly opportunity knocks at the door of a 
man's life he must be ready to open quickly. 
Nansen, whose adventures in Arctic seas recently 
filled us with admiration, was prepared for his 
brilliant success by his hardy life, his scientific 
observations, his careful study of previous at- 



58 



CONCERNING LIFE 



tempts, his original and painstaking equipment. 
It was the long training in years of peace that 
explain the noble triumphs of General Lawton 
and Admiral Phillips, typical American soldier 
and sailor. 

It is so with every brilliant career. We hear 
of the artist in the moment of triumph, when 
the lovely voice echoes in our ears, when the 
book lies upon every table, when the speech 
is published, when the picture is hung on 
the line. What we do not think of, until 
we read the biography at least, is the long, 
faithful, continuous, fatiguing day of prepara- 
tion, those days when muscles were tired and the 
head weary and the heart well nigh discouraged. 
These are the days of the girded loin and the 
burning lamp. " All my life has been a prepa- 
ration for this speech," said Daniel Webster 
after that memorable debate with Hayne. It is 
an easy thing to say that the poet is born, not 
made, that this man has talent and that man 
genius, to account for success by some streak 
of luck. But if we could see all the blotted 
manuscripts of famous authors, if we could 
know all the little economies and the long hours 
of labor of many a man who has made a for- 
tune, we should begin to believe that genius is a 
capacity for hard work. Opportunity, like the 



THE GIRDED LOIN 59 



bridegroom, comes, early or late, but only the 
wise, the prudent, the prepared can go forth to 
meet it. 

So far from ridiculing the old-fashioned ap- 
peals to a boy's ambition, encouraging him to 
aspire to the Presidency or Congress, or great 
wealth or high reputation, rather let us stimu- 
late the ambition of the young by the examples 
of the many self-made men of this democratic 
country. But not less earnestly let us insist 
upon the need of careful, prolonged, exhaustive 
preparation. It is true that wealth and reputa- 
tion and achievement do not come to every am- 
bitious man. But it profits little if the oppor- 
tunity is offered the unprepared man. 

And for all men there comes an hour when 
the previous training is decisive, when prosper- 
ity and failure tremble in the scales. Every 
year some important positions in bank and store 
and mill become vacant, and what happens ? The 
directors search the ranks of employees for the 
best equipped man. Do not be too easily dis- 
couraged by the immense competition. " There 
is always room at the top," said Webster. I for 
one like to see young men getting ready to go 
to the front, as old age and death make room 
for them. The leaders are more than the multi- 
tude. It is the teacher who trains scores of 



60 



CONCERNING LIFE 



boys for their life work. It is the general who 
leads the soldiers to victory. It is the author 
who stirs the sluggish blood in thousands of 
unknown hearts. After all, competition is a 
winnowing fan that separates the wheat from 
the chaff. When people fail it is most often 
because they are not prepared to succeed. They 
have been indolent or indifferent or self-in- 
dulgent. The race is for the swift ; the battle is 
for the strong. Otherwise there would be no 
progress. It is important that mediocrity 
should fail, that the work of the world, in busi- 
ness, in education, in literature, in the church 
even, should be done by those who give it their 
whole thought, who stand expectant with girt 
loins and blazing lamps when the music of the 
bridegroom is heard in the distance. 

I have spoken of material prosperity, of those 
things every man would like to possess as he sees 
how they enrich and adorn more favored lives. 
But equally true is this need of preparation in 
the spiritual life. The parable teaches the nec- 
essary and beautiful truth, that fitful energy in 
a good cause and the best of intentions are not 
enough. If we are to hold our own in a world 
where we wrestle, not with flesh and blood, but 
against " spiritual wickedness in high places," 
we must possess a moral life with which we can 



THE GIRDED LOIN 



61 



sustain ourselves. The terrible lapses from com- 
mercial honor and domestic virtue that startle a 
whole community are the result of an undis- 
ciplined life. The strength of the rubber tire is 
the thinnest place. Temptation, like the grippe, 
attacks the weak spot, whether it is the head or 
the heart. The years of self-restraint, of watch- 
ful discipline, of loyalty to principle, often seem 
to stand a man in little stead. But some day 
temptation, in the guise of money or office or 
pleasure, suddenly stands before him; — and his 
answer is found in those very years of resolute, 
disciplined life. Some years ago a young law- 
yer made me an evening call, and in the course 
of our conversation told me that recently his 
services had been sought in a questionable suit 
and a check for five hundred dollars laid upon 
his desk as a retaining fee. My friend returned 
it and declined the case. 

I do not believe any man, however exemplary 
his conduct, however high his principles, how- 
ever sheltered his life, can always escape the 
insidious approaches of evil. It may come in 
one form or another; gross in feature and swag- 
gering in manner, or refined, cultivated and in- 
sinuating. Can he resist? Will he succumb? 
It depends upon his training, his readiness, his 
watchfulness. His loins must be girt for the 



62 



CONCERNING LIFE 



struggle, his lamp of truth must burn brightly. 
Upon the value he has always set upon honor, 
purity, and personal obligation depends his 
power of resistance. 

It is so likewise when some great trial of dis- 
appointment or bereavement knocks at the door 
of a man's life, and gives the summons the most 
unthinking must heed. " It must needs be that 
offences come," said Jesus. We do not live 
many years before we learn that life, like Pan- 
dora's box, has both good and evil gifts. And 
here also the power of endurance, the ability to 
rally, to resume one's work, to say that " some- 
thing ere the end, some work of noble note may 
yet be done," is the power of former fidelity. 
Sometimes it is the disappointment of our worldly 
ambitions, sometimes the loss of our friends, or 
it may be lingering illness, or the " King of 
Terrors " himself. And truly tragic is it when 
one is not prepared by his integrity for this 
crisis. 

It is not my intention, it is never my wish to 
open old wounds, to remind you of the things 
that try men's souls, with any vain desire to play 
upon the chord of suffering. But as I make 
my parish calls and enter into that sympathetic 
friendship it is one of the privileges of my pro- 
fession to enjoy, I am deeply impressed by the 



THE GIRDED LOIN 63 



different attitude of men in their hour of trial. 
Often I find a rebellious spirit, an undisciplined 
will, clouds without a silver lining, a life hard- 
ened, petrified, insensible to the woes of others. 
And then I see those who can suffer and be 
strong, who are made the more tender by their 
own bereavement, whose faith in God and love 
for man are deepened as earthly possessions flee, 
and friends depart, and age narrows their active 
service. In your hour of trial it makes all the 
difference in the world if you can go up to your 
Calvary with a lifelong faith in the Everlasting 
Arms underneath you. Like his Lord, the 
Christian fortifies himself against the evil day. 
He turns his thought to the deeper things. He 
schools himself to see truth and progress in the 
movements of life; he can even bring himself to 
rejoice in the triumph of all that is good and 
beautiful, although his own days are darkened 
by disease and distressful failure. He is girded 
for the ordeal, his vision of truth is clear. 

But turn to the cheerful side. In the spiritual 
as in the material life opportunity is used by the 
alert and disciplined man. To those who have 
been faithful in few things, greater things are 
intrusted. All a man's past life at times seems 
to lead up to some decisive moment when public 
service comes with torches and martial music to 



64 



CONCERNING LIFE 



his door to lead him to new and larger duties. 
It has been my privilege to meet many men 
prominent in reform movements ; and what has 
particularly impressed me has been, not extraor- 
dinary talent, certainly not rare genius, but reso- 
lute purpose and clear perception — that is, the 
well girt loin, the brilliant flame. It is the man 
of two talents ready to meet his lord. The bad 
workman blames his tools, he despises the worn 
instruments, he envies the finer steel of his rival, 
he gives up in despair. The good workman 
turns to the familiar tools, grasps them with 
firmer hand and supplements them with training. 

" A craven hung along the battle's edge, 
And thought, 4 Had I a sword of keener steel — 
That blue blade the King's son bears, but this 
Blunt thing ! ' He snapt and flung it from his 
hand, 

And lowering crept away and left the field. 
Then came the King's son wounded, sore be- 
stead — 

And weaponless, and saw the broken sword, 
Half buried in the dry and trodden sand, 
And ran and snatched it, and with battle shout 
Lifted afresh, he hewed the enemy down, 
And saved a great cause that heroic day." 

There is the story of moral leadership which he 



THE GIRDED LOIN 



65 



who runs may read. Be ready for the oppor- 
tunity. Master the use of tools! Prepare for 
leadership. Never despair. 

And for ourselves, the men of one talent, as 
well as for the others, there are the great mo- 
ments when some new joy, or an added privilege, 
or a deeper faith, or release from a heavy burden, 
or a coveted responsibility, invites us to the 
larger life. Are we ready for it ? Can we enter 
into the friendships, the duties, the new occasions 
it brings in the joyous train coming nearer and 
nearer, even it may be while we are dozing in 
the long interval of waiting! Truly we know 
neither the day nor the hour when the Son of 
Man cometh to waken us into His service. In 
the thought of the early Christians the Son of 
Man was to descend from the clouds of Heaven 
and summon a sinful world to repentance. To 
us, the Son of Man is that illuminating Spirit 
that reveals the deeper nature of man, the Christ 
life possible for each one of us. Everything 
depends upon the antecedent culture whether the 
coming prosperity or honor or happiness or spe- 
cial privilege makes us larger, nobler men, or 
finds us unworthy of our high calling, unready 
to hold festival with the Lord of Life. 

A great many men spoil the best things of life 
by the self-indulgence of their early years, little 



66 



CONCERNING LIFE 



dreaming that some day the larger opportunity 
may come to them, never thinking that it is as 
necessary to prepare for happiness as for sor- 
row, not realizing that it is as noble to be a man 
in the hour of triumph as in the day of defeat. 
Every young life may well anticipate the day of 
honor and privilege and pure affection that fitly 
crown the patient endeavor, the unflinching 
loyalty of the faithful service. It is a great 
thing when a man can go to meet the happiness 
of his life and say " My hands are clean, my 
heart is pure." 



VII 



THE LEAN SOUL 

And he gave them their request; but sent 
leanness into their soul. — Psalm cvi, 15. 

The judgments of God are not as mysterious 
as they are often represented. The moment we 
cease to look for them in some supernatural 
manifestation of power and try to discern them 
in the ordinary laws of life, we are in a fair 
way to understand many things that now per- 
plex us. 

The laws of health, for instance, are cer- 
tainly divine laws. If we violate them we pay 
the penalty in weary muscles and throbbing 
nerves. The laws of industry, of temperance 
and thrift are no less divine. The intemperate 
and thriftless are punished in their degradation 
and poverty. Equally true is it, on the other 
hand, that education, culture, literary or scien- 
tific distinction are not the result of accident, 
but in very truth the reward of special and care- 
ful training. 

67 



68 CONCERNING LIFE 



The first lesson for us to learn, and often a 
very hard one, is that God governs men in an 
orderly, lawful manner. In human life, as in 
nature, the first and most impressive fact is the 
unvarying law of cause and effect. " God is 
not mocked. Whatsoever a man soweth that 
shall he also reap." If a man sows for health or 
material prosperity or high scholarship, those 
are the things, barring the accident of outside 
interference, that he will reap. It is well it is 
so, that we can depend upon this law of causa- 
tion. Otherwise human effort would be one in- 
terminable game of chance. A man may be 
unscrupulous, wholly without moral character, 
mean, a liar, a cheat ; but if he observes the laws 
of health, that is of diet and rest and exercise, 
he will be well and strong. Likewise if a man 
is sober and saving and foresighted, he will be a 
prosperous man, although he may be ignorant, 
selfish, unpatriotic, a hard landlord, an unpopu- 
lar citizen. And so, also, if a man bends all 
his energies to the acquisition of knowledge, 
after a time he will be recognized as an author- 
ity in some branch of learning, although he may 
not pay his debts, or live peaceably with his 
neighbors. 

Such is the operation of God's law of causa- 
tion, and we must accept it, although at times 



THE LEAN SOUL 



69 



our moral sense may be shocked and perplexed. 
In these illustrations I have taken, familiar to 
us all from daily observation, we are often trou- 
bled, asking ourselves why men morally deficient, 
should so often prosper in the thing whereto 
they have set their hand. Our faith in a divine 
order is shaken. 

Well, what is the answer to this scepticism? 
What is the instruction for the young who are 
to be taught the right, and who see the wrong 
so clearly? Surely, no words are more fitting 
than those of our text : " And he gave them 
their request, but sent leanness into their soul." 
God will give you the thing for which you faith- 
fully work, health, prosperity, learning, or any 
other of his gifts : what you sow that you shall 
reap. But it does not follow that you will be a 
happy man or a good man or a man worthy of 
all respect and love. For these gifts of the 
spirit you must have your special preparation. 
God grants us our request, even when we pray 
for the wrong things, for hard work is strenuous 
prayer. But it does not follow that a man shall 
be satisfied with the result of his own prayer. 
With the splendid physique of an athlete he may 
be an ignorant fellow, out of place among culti- 
vated people, embarrassed, good for nothing out- 
side of athletic contests. He may be many 



70 CONCERNING LIFE 



times a millionaire, and yet a man of so few- 
resources that life means little more to him than 
a good dinner and the ticker of the stock mar- 
ket. He may be a famous scientist and have 
classified a superb collection, and yet the man 
of him so withered and sapless that, as Emer- 
son said, he is only fit to be put in some bottle 
and added to his ow T n collection of snakes and 
beetles. 

The judgment of God is strikingly in evi- 
dence. Men have prayed, or worked, just as 
you wish to state it, merely for animal health, 
or a million of money or the details of some 
science, merely for them and nothing more. 
And God has given them their request — and 
sent leanness into their soul. What a striking 
commentary upon many a life it is, that the prin- 
cipal item in the obituary notice is the list of 
clubs to which the deceased belonged! How 
often after the death of a rich man there is no 
word of regret, but merely curiosity. How 
much money did he leave? Who will have it? 
Where will it be spent? How clearly such com- 
ment tells the tale ! A lean soul in a fat pasture ! 

I wish this truth might be impressed upon 
every young man entering into active business 
life. The judgments of God are not postponed 
until some future day of reckoning, with the 



THE LEAN SOUL 71 



secret hope of every sinner that payment may be 
defaulted. No, the judgment of God is ex- 
pressed every day. At any moment a man's 
spirit, like his body, may be in a condition of 
health or of disease. And where shall we look 
for the richest blessings if not in the spiritual 
nature of man ! 

The severest judgment of God is letting peo- 
ple become just what they want to be; ignorant 
or grasping or frivolous or even vicious. They 
close their hearts to all noble, all generous, all 
broadening influences ; they have no interest in 
the religious or social life of the day, they have 
neither the scholar's love of truth, nor the re- 
former's enthusiasm for humanity, they are liv- 
ing merely for money or pleasure or personal 
culture. They are "narrow, self-centered, igno- 
rant, prejudiced, unaimable men and women. 
And what they sow they reap, — social pleasures, 
good investments, a cultivated taste in art and 
music. God grants their requests — and sends 
leanness into their soul. The fish in the Mam- 
mouth Cave are born with eyes, but they soon 
become blind in the sunless waters. Men lose 
their spiritual vision in much the same way. 
They sacrifice everything to making money, and 
some day they discover that they themselves have 
been sacrificed. 



72 



CONCERNING LIFE 



Even learning has its victims. It is a fa- 
miliar story that after a time Darwin became 
so engrossed in his scientific pursuits that he 
lost his enjoyment of literature and music. Self- 
culture is a noble ambition. But if that is the 
one instinct satisfied, the starved nature will 
some day cry out. Melancholia is the besetting 
danger of cultivated people. Some of you have 
read Amiel's Journal and remember that weari- 
ness of life, that befell one of the most culti- 
vated minds of his century. The man's spirit 
needed action, and he gave it only reflection. 
Life means a great deal more than the improve- 
ment of one's mind, and cultivated people know 
it. If they have neglected the other manifold 
phases of life, the human interests, some day 
they are likely to make a terrible discovery. In 
the midst of plenty, they are starving. Culti- 
vated women have become nurses, and Salvation 
Army lassies, and Bible readers and day teach- 
ers, and even bookkeepers, knocking for entrance 
into that larger world of human passions. We 
have hearts as well as minds. We crave sym- 
pathy as well as knowledge. And we have a 
will also ; we want to do something as well as to 
know everything. 

Do you remember that wonderful allegory, 
" The Palace of Art " ? In a series of exquisite 



THE LEAN SOUL 



73 



pictures Tennyson drew the splendid setting of 
the life of self-culture, all the resources of art 
and music and literature at the disposal of the 
cultivated mind. 

" I built my soul a lordly pleasure house, 
Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. 
I said 6 O Soul make merry and carouse, 
Dear Soul, for all is well." 

But all was not well. After three years had 
passed and the soul was sated with its pictures 
and music, strange phantasms appeared in the 
halls of that marvelous palace and brought ter- 
ror to that self -centered soul. Far better 
than that splendid isolation seemed the life of 
mingled joy and sorrow among men. Better 
the life of unrest, struggle, and partial triumph 
amid human sympathies, than like Brahma 
to sit in apathetic calm above the world of 
men. 

" So when four years were wholly finished, 

She threw her royal robes away. 
4 Make me a cottage in the vale,' she said, 
' Where I may mourn and pray.' " 

It is a masterly picture the poet has given us 
of the triumph and the failure of modern culture. 
We think of Senancour and Amiel, and many a 



74 CONCERNING LIFE 



club woman we know, cultivated, brilliant, rich in 
resources, and yet dissatisfied and frequently de- 
pressed in spirit, because so many instincts of 
the nature are thwarted. Life means so much 
more than learning ! The wiser one is, the more 
this is realized, for 

" 'Tis life whereof our nerves are scant, 
More life, and fuller that we want." 

If God's judgment is thus shown in the life 
given wholly to self-culture, one of the noble am- 
bitions of men, we need not be surprised to find 
the same verdict upon the life given wholly to 
business or to pleasure. Only, I don't believe 
people who live entirely for business or pleasure 
are so likely to realize their failure. We who 
observe, however, see their failure. How many 
men give their life to their business and the 
newspaper! You do not see them at church, or 
at a lecture or a concert, or at a public meeting. 
It is doubtful if they always go to the polls. 
They are not found in the city government or 
upon the boards of public institutions. If they 
have any interest in the movements of the day, 
it is critical, faultfinding, abusive; not construc- 
tive, pecuniary and helpful. I see a great many 
such men, here and in Boston. And I pity them. 
If they were to roll up a fortune of many mil- 



THE LEAN SOUL 75 



lions, I should still feel the sacrifice of their man- 
hood was too big a price to pay. 

How many women there are, attractive, capa- 
ble, with ample leisure and abundant means, 
living in a doll's house, like Nora in Ibsen's 
play ! What is there admirable in this mad ab- 
sorption in amusement, neglecting home duties 
to gain time for golf and whist and matinees! 
And all the time there are so many ways in which 
a generous nature can serve others ! There was 
never a time when the best men and women felt 
so much responsibility for social well-being. All 
this modern and manifold activity in the church 
and club and in charitable and social directions 
has taken many a woman out of the harem, and 
made her a great social, moral, civilizing influ- 
ence in the community. When we reflect upon 
this nobler life now open to women, and see how 
many have developed and flowered in the new 
soil, how scant and pitiful seems the life of 
women whose interests are so largely in their 
amusements ! 

I turn back to the words of our text: And 
God gave them their request — but sent lean- 
ness into their soul. The things for which we 
earnestly work, we are very likely to obtain, 
whether they are for our benefit or our injury; 
whether they make us nobler or weaker men and 



76 CONCERNING LIFE 



women. And it is our constant weakness to 
judge from the superficial aspects of life, to 
speak of the rich man as the successful man, to 
speak of the idle woman as the enviable woman. 
But God's judgment is otherwise. In all ages 
the wise have seen it and tried to live broad and 
useful lives. For the highest success is in the 
highest character. In our own best moments we, 
too, see it. And we pray to become Christlike, 
just as the prayer of the mother is always, not 
that her son may be rich or famous, but that he 
shall be a good man. 

All life is a prayer. Laborare est orare, is 
an old proverb. The very fact that our prayer 
is to be answered gives us a fearful, but a splen- 
did responsibility, for it may mean that the life 
men have envied for its apparent success is seen, 
too late! to be a ghastly failure; starvation in 
the midst of plenty. 

" If He could doubt on His triumphant cross, 
How much more I in the defeat and loss 
Of seeing all my selfish dreams fulfilled, 
Of having lived the very life I willed, 
Of being all that I desired to be? 
My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken 
me?" 



VIII 



THE RENEWAL OF THE INWARD MAN 

— but though our outward man perish, yet 
the inward man is renewed day by day. — II 
Cor. iv, 16. 

The life of the body and the life of the spirit 
are in striking contrast. They begin alike in 
weakness, dependence, ignorance of the world. 
The body and the spirit must, each of them, be 
trained for their career, fitted by the care of 
others for their place and work among men. 
Each is to a certain extent dependent upon the 
other. The health or disease of the body af- 
fects the mind, and the mind has great, if not 
absolute, control over the body. Yet there is 
an important distinction between the two and it 
is indicated in the words of our text. At the 
period when the body begins to lose its vitality 
the mind or spirit begins to acquire its greatest 
power. Just when this moment comes we can- 
not say. It depends upon the individual in- 
heritance. 

77 



CONCERNING LIFE 



A recent volume, entitled The Western Slope 
of Life, speaks of this period of physical decline 
as beginning at thirty. It may be that at thirty 
one has not the vigor he has at twenty-five, the 
capacity for labor, the physical capital that will 
stand frequent inroads. The exact period is 
not, however, important. What we realize only 
too keenly is that the time does come when we 
feel obliged to be prudent, to consider our 
health, to plan the work carefully, to husband 
our resources, to take thought for the morrow. 
We have reached the crest of the hill only to per- 
ceive that we must at once begin the descent. 

But this period of physical decline is the time 
when the spirit finds itself renewed day by day. 
The education of the school has given place to 
the discipline of life. It is the time when ex- 
perience counts. For what is the book knowl- 
edge of the student in comparison with the world- 
wisdom of the man ! " I am a part of all that 
I have met," Tennyson makes Ulysses say. It 
is this enlargement of the mind, by its incorpora- 
tion of the world in its thought, that is its crown- 
ins glory. All the training of the earlv vears 
is simply to fit one to enter more completely into 
this life of the world, to read its lessons more 
accurately, to enrich oneself by its varied ex- 
perience. And these years of physical decline 



THE INWARD MAN 7l 



are the prolonged period of mental or spiritual 
growth. We say again with Ulysses : 

" Yet all experience is an arch where thro' 
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin 
fades 

Forever and forever when I move." 

The more we know the more we want to know. 
The knowledge of life before thirty is slight in- 
deed compared with the accumulations of age. 
It is summed up in the familiar saying, " Young 
men for action, old men for counsel." 

I think we want to bring this impressive fact 
clearly before us on this festal day when our 
thought turns to the future life. What is the 
immortal life for which we hope? It is cer- 
tainly not the life of the body. Very few of 
us are sufficiently in love with our appearance to 
care for its indefinite preservation. I doubt if 
we should be willing to accept eternal life if it 
carried with it the perpetuation of the body the 
weakness of which we know so well. The ancient 
Greeks felt this difficulty and embodied it in one 
of their poetic myths. The goddess Aurora fell 
in love with a mortal, Tithonus, and from the 
father of gods and men begged immortal life 
for her lover. The boon was granted, but the 
goddess had forgotten to ask for eternal youth, 



/ 

80 CONCERNING LIFE 

as well as eternal life, and the wretched man, 
aged, weary, racked with pain, having outlived 
his generation, no longer able to enter into the 
joys of other men, begged for death to end his 
sufferings. It is not the immortality of the 
body we wish, even were it to remain as fresh and 
beautiful as the dawn itself. Perhaps the great- 
est trial of the aged is that they have outlived 
the friends of their youth, and feel themselves 
alone in a world that hurries madly past them. 
It is the continuance of the spirit we crave, the 
preservation of the mind, the persistence of our 
personality that has matured with the years, and 
often, as we feel, is only prepared to live when 
death cuts short the earthly career. 

The life of the spirit then — that is the es- 
sential meaning of this church festival. Now 
this life of the spirit on earth we perceive may 
be quantitative or qualitative. It may be re- 
markable for its years or for its attainments. 
One of the pathetic spectacles of life is that of 
great age and an uncultivated mind. One might 
as well be an elephant or a parrot or the fabled 
toad imprisoned in the rock. In this life, how- 
ever much we wonder at the constitution that has 
carried one into the nineties, we still estimate the 
value of that life by its personality. What has 
it to show for all these years? Is it larger in 



THE INWARD MAN 81 X 



understanding, rich in culture, broadly sympa- 
thetic, abounding in the graces of the spirit? 
We see such triumphs, fortunately, very often. 
That is what reconciles us to old age. That is 
what makes it seem worth while to be so long on 
the western slope. We can be reconciled to 
bodily weakness if the spirit continues to show 
progress. The important thing is that life 
should yield its harvest. Some years ago 
one of the professors at Harvard had a gol- 
den saying from the ancient texts over his 
study door, " Work as if you had all eter- 
nity before you: live as if this day were your 
last." 

Shakespeare died at fifty-two, Mozart at thir- 
ty-five, Jesus at thirty-three. The early death 
is tragic only when we feel that the life work 
has not been done. Would the poet Keats have 
done more or better work if he had attained to 
the age of Tennyson and Browning? That we 
do not know. But his memory is embalmed in 
verse as precious as limited. So we say of all 
great lives, that the appointed task was done, 
perhaps in thirty years, perhaps in seventy. 
Our final estimate is of the undertaking, not of 
the years. 

Let us get more deeply into the subject. In 
what does this qualitative value of life consist? 



82 



CONCERNING LIFE 



What is the experience that profits ? In a sense, 
all experience has its value. However hard the 
life, however frivolous, however vicious, the world 
still instructs. The mind grows by what it feeds 
upon. The man is always more interesting than 
the child. In another and a deeper sense the 
real meaning of life is in the upbuilding of the 
spirit. Robert Browning saw it when he wrote 
of his own work to a friend, " the inci- 
dents in the development of a soul, little else 
seems to me worth study." 

In this development of the soul, the purpose 
of our life here, there are three lines of possible 
growth, action, thought and feeling. The first; 
is most evident in the years of maturity. Af- 
ter a time action becomes inpossible; one is put 
on the retired list, the work is given to younger 
hands; and the wise man surrenders it grace- 
fully. It need not discourage us. The faithful 
workman earns his holiday. The important 
thing is that the work should be done. When 
we can no longer do it, we should rejoice that 
there are persons to do it, the boys and girls we 
are even now training. The legislators, the 
writers, the soldiers, the artisans, the commer- 
cial leaders, they all die; but their places are 
quickly filled, civilization goes forward. Fresh 
triumphs are added to the long record. The 



THE INWARD MAN 83 



torch is handed to a fresh runner, and the word 
of victory is passed along. 

It is along the lines of thought and feeling 
that the soul's growth moves longer. Wisdom 
does not mean book knowledge, though we are 
apt to think so. The modern world rightly sets 
a high value upon the education of the schools. 
It is however elementary, preliminary, the step- 
ping-stone to that riper knowledge of life ex- 
perience alone can give us. The great object 
of life is to make life itself known. It is a serial 
story and each day gives us a deeper insight in- 
to the plot and the numerous characters. Some- 
times we go to people to get information about 
some particular study, what they have to tell us 
about science or history or politics. They have 
expert knowledge and this we want. Most 
often, however, it is their general intelligence, 
their worldly wisdom, their knowledge of men, 
and events, their sympathies, their accumulated 
experience we wish. What has Life said to 
them? How much of her secret has this 
Sphinx whispered in their ear! The growth 
of the soul is in such acquisitions, in the knowl- 
edge of the world, of its wonder and its beauty, 
then in the knowledge of men, their weakness, 
their struggle after goodness, their triumph; 
and then in the knowledge of God, His dealings 



84 CONCERNING LIFE 



with men, with the individual soul. In a very 
profound sense all this wisdom we acquire, often 
so laboriously, often so painfully, is the revela- 
tion of God to His children. At first it all seems 
physical power; the sun, the winds, the move- 
ment of water, the efforts of men. Then it is 
seen as spiritual power, the Creator of the 
heavens and earth, the unseen Spirit in man, the 
invisible and all embracing life of God sus- 
taining the world, manifesting Himself in all 
this varied activity of men. 

He who thinks deeply lives deeply. We can 
go through life drifting along on the surface 
of things, never knowing all the sweep and 
force of the mighty stream that bears humanity 
onward. But the men and women who live 
deeply, whose thought is serious, who have in 
more or less degree the consciousness that they 
are here for a purpose, are living with God ; even 
now they are in the eternal order. In all true 
men and women that is the growing thought of 
the years. As a fact, we find, we find that con- 
viction stronger among the aged, when the fail- 
ure of the body seems well nigh complete. The 
outward man perishes, but the inward man is re- 
newed day by day. Yes, renewed in the pro- 
found and inspiring and blessed thought that in 
spite of all the sin and suffering it is still God's 



THE INWARD MAN 85 



world which He is guiding to some divine end. 
That was the life of Christ, all permeated and 
radiant with the consciousness that His life was 
the life of God Who was speaking to Him, 
speaking through Him, sustaining Him in His 
trial, making Him a holy, teacher of righteous- 
ness to all men. 

Perhaps even more in feeling than in thought 
is seen this growth of the soul. For when we 
speak of thought we are apt to think of that 
intellectual power that so few really possess ; 
we think of the wise men of the world, the 
philosophers, the poets, the historians, the 
statesmen, our intellectual guides; we think of 
Spinoza, Shakespeare, Gibbon, Washington. 
Yet the impressive fact is that often this pro- 
found consciousness of God is seen in the un- 
learned, the meek ones of the earth, in men and 
women who cannot by any stretch of the imagi- 
nation be called intellectual, but whose lives are 
so serene and lovely that we know they are liv- 
ing in the spirit. They appear to us, as they 
did to Charles Lamb, " faces upon which the 
dove of peace sits brooding." And we know 
that whatever their actual circumstances, their 
life is hid with Christ in God. They live in 
a blissful reliance upon the Divine Will, confident 
that all these seeming discords of the world have 



86 CONCERNING LIFE 



their significance in the great symphony. If 
we need encouragement in our work, we who are 
young and active turn to these aged saints. 
They reassure our faltering courage. Out of 
their own experience they offer us their own 
treasures of faith and hope. Their unfailing 
charity pardons the weak and erring, goes out 
in constant sympathy to all in distress, like " a 
fountain singing in the sun baked square." 
Through such lives God is best known. The 
soul has grown; it has become more God-like; 
it is the very heart beat of God we feel in such 
lives. That is the true interpretation of Christ's 
life. A profound truth is in the Apostle's 
words, that God was in Christ reconciling the 
world to Himself. Men had thought of God as 
power, mysterious, inexplicable, awful power; 
but ever since then we think of God as Love, 
Divine Tenderness, Infinite Pity, stooping to 
share our weakness in order that He may bring 
us closer to Himself. That is the thought in 
Browning's great poem Saul when he makes 
David sing to the despairing monarch. 

" 'Tis the weakness in strength that I cry for ! 

My flesh that I seek 
In the Godhead! I seek and I find it. 0 Saul 
it shall be 



THE INWARD MAN 87 



A Face like my face that receives thee, a man 
like to me, 

Thou shalt love and be loved by, forever; a 

Hand like this hand 
Shalt throw open the gates of new life to thee! 

See the Christ stand ! " 

Shall we not say then it is this qualitative 
aspect of the spirit we have in mind when we 
think of the immortal life? Continuance, yes; 
but the continuance of our better self, that life 
of the spirit that has been renewed with the 
years and which seems so much more precious 
than the life of the body. Eternal life means 
life that is eternal. It is now as well as then, 
here and hereafter. It is the Divine Life that 
is eternal and as we share it now we shall share 
it forever. It is the spirit of Christ, the spirit 
of all the Saints, of all true men and women 
through whom God makes His constant revela- 
tion. 

" As God lives, 
What is excellent is permanent." 



IX 



THE OPENED EYES 

And immediately there fell from his eyes as 
it had been scales; and he received sight forth- 
with, and arose and was baptized. — Acts ix, 18. 

There can be no truer description of conver- 
sion, than is found in the words — " and there 
fell from his eyes, as it were scales." The con- 
verted man is the man whose eyes have been 
opened to the beauty and goodness in the world. 
St. Paul's experience is typical of that of many 
a man who opposes or criticizes or ridicules some 
reform, deeming it hostile to the institution or 
customs or standards he reveres, and so is un- 
willing, or perhaps unable, to see that a new, a 
life-giving force has come into the world; but 
who, some day, has his eyes opened to its benefi- 
cent work and becomes its ardent champion. 
Every great movement for the elevation of hu- 
manity, for the purification of social life, for 
political reform, for religious progress, has been 
aided by men who once stood aloof or assailed 
88 



THE OPENED EYES 89 



it with fierce contempt. It is so to-day in the 
no-license campaign and in the Civil Service re- 
form with which we are so familiar. You con- 
vert a man by opening his eyes. He is blinded 
by his prejudices, he does not know that a new 
and blessed influence is at work, he distrusts 
its advocates, his interest appears to be on the 
other side. And you convert him by showing 
him the obvious facts, by pointing out, for in- 
stance, that in towns and cities where a no-license 
law can be fairly well enforced, the community 
is a much cleaner, more wholesome place of resi- 
dence; or that the practice of making a clean 
sweep of public offices to benefit the political 
party in power is contrary to good business 
principles and fatal to an efficient public serv- 
ice. The opponents of reform movements in 
social or political life, if they are intelligent and 
have any public spirit, soon or late learn that 
it is hard to kick against the pricking of their 
own conscience. Their eyes are opened, their 
votes are cast on the other side, and public mo- 
rality triumphs. 

Even more truly may this be said of the 
wrongdoer. When he is converted his eyes are 
opened. It was a favorite doctrine of Socrates 
that if men knew the right thing to do they 
would do it; if they had the foresight and judg- 



90 CONCERNING LIFE 



ment to look ahead and see all the difference 
between good and evil, they would not hesitate 
in their choice. There is a great truth here. 
Most wrong-doing comes from thoughtlessness. 
A man does not see the consequences of wrong- 
doing, he does not know the quiet satisfaction 
of the upright life. It is a great trial to the 
parent, to the teacher, to the minister, to see 
young people, thoughtlessly for the most part, 
doing the wrong thing. The young simply do 
not see that neglect of their studies or indiffer- 
ence to business requirements or over-indulgence 
in pleasure, mean bad habits, a weakened will, 
and that these are fatal to future usefulness. 
We who are older see it very clearly. But the 
young think us dull and conservative or prig- 
gish and laugh at our warnings. That wretched 
Lear, the aged, discrowned monarch, discover- 
ing to late the terrible effects of his neglect of 
parental responsibility, cried out " The gods 
are just and of our pleasant vices make instru- 
ments to plague us." We are blinded by our 
passions in youth, just as in age we are blinded 
by our prejudices. How can we help young 
people to obtain work or to acquire an education, 
or to eradicate their faults, if they are think- 
ing simply of amusement! It is a very diffi- 
cult tasks for parents, teachers and minister. 



THE OPENED EYES 



91 



We must open their eyes to what is passing 
around them. We must call their attention to 
the moral failures in every community. We 
must make them feel the respect and affection 
we have for men of character. If you want 
your boy to succeed in business you must con- 
vert him to hard work, to the sacrifice of many 
pleasant things, to building on a very solid 
foundation of industry, sobriety, thrift and self- 
control. It is a great mistake to believe that 
commercial success is due to luck ; that the pros- 
perous man, like King Midas, turns everything 
to gold, merely by his touch. Such a theory of 
success simply produces the gambler, in low life 
the player of policy, in financial circles the 
speculator in stocks. There are too many of 
such men now, men who wreck their own and the 
earnings of others. The Gospel of work is the 
only safe teaching for clever, promising young 
men. 

It is equally true in the moral life. If you 
want your son to have a clean, upright, honor- 
able manhood, you must open his eyes to the 
evil consequences of self-indulgence in those 
early formative years. 

" Our deeds still travel with us from afar, 
And what we have been makes us what we are." 



92 



CONCERNING LIFE 



In our reaction from the Puritan influence 
we are lax in matters that have an important 
moral bearing. We like to feel that we are 
emancipated from old prejudices and prevailing 
superstitions, and so we are apt to laugh at the 
jesting speech upon sacred themes, to encourage 
the story that is a little risque, to read the novels 
that deal with the unseemly side of life, to 
patronize the plays that are of questionable 
taste. There is a great deal of this indulgence 
in the prurient, as all of us know. Now no 
one wishes to be thought a prig, but surely the 
delicacy of the mind is too important to be ex- 
posed to this malarial influence. Our eyes 
should be opened to the danger to ourselves, 
and especially to the young, of this very common 
fault. The daily papers are great offenders 
in this respect, and club room gossip is noto- 
riously of this character. 

But it is true of the thoughtless man, as it 
is of the persecutor, that when he hears the voice 
of God the scales may fall from his eyes and 
he may enter into the ministry of Christ. Then, 
for the first time it may be, he sees the strength 
and beauty of the upright life. Some of the 
best men have risen on stepping stones of their 
dead selves to higher things and preached right- 
eousness to the Gentile world. I know a clergy- 



THE OPENED EYES 93 



man, one of the best and most successful men 
in the ministry, whose early manhood was self- 
indulgent, lawless, shameful, who heard the 
voice of God one day when he was overcome by 
the heat of his passionate life and lay ex- 
hausted, blinded, helpless in the desert where 
he had wandered. And to him came some Chris- 
tian Ananias, who opened his eyes to the splen- 
did ministry before him. We all know men who 
have been converted from idle, aimless, self-in- 
dulgent lives into strong, useful, honored mem- 
bers of the community. " They say best men 
are moulded out of faults " is Shakespeare's 
cheering phrase. Yes, because they have con- 
quered those faults, because they have not been 
disobedient to the heavenly vision, because all 
their sad experience has been put at the service 
of others. 

" St. Augustine, well hast thou said 
That of our vices we can frame 
A ladder, if we will but tread 
Beneath our feet each deed of shame." 

Forgiveness, whether divine or human, means 
simply — " You are recoverable." The sinner, 
like the householder, may erect a nobler build- 
ing upon the ruins of his fire-swept home. The 
intemperate man, the licentious youth, the frivo- 



94 CONCERNING LIFE 



lous woman, have it in their power, when the 
voice of God speaks to them, to open their eyes 
and see the years of unwearied service still pos- 
sible for them. 

It seems to me that our text may well find 
an application also in the time of distress, in 
the deprivation or bereavement that soon or late 
comes to every one of us. It is very natural 
that our own grief should be more to us than 
that of another. And it seems but cold com- 
fort to say to the sufferer that loss is common — 
" Never morning wore to evening but some heart 
did break." That is the great truth however. 
As the exiled duke in the forest of Arden says 
to his friends, learning the sore need of Orlando 
and the aged Adam, 

" Thou see'st we are not all alone unhappy ; 
This wide and universal theatre 
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene 
Wherein we play in." 

It is indeed but poor comfort to tell the suf- 
ferer that he is one among many, if you think 
merely to make his own lot less severe. But if 
you can open his eyes to the service he can render 
other sufferers, you have given him a balm for 
his own hurt. His deeper experience may 
make him more sympathetic, more useful to 



THE OPENED EYES 95 



others. Some of you may have heard the story 
of Elizabeth Gilbert, the blind daughter of an 
English bishop. In her childhood and youth 
she did not realize her misfortune, for every- 
thing that the wealth of her father or the love 
of her friends could do was done to alleviate her 
misfortune. But when she became a woman 
she was only too conscious of the terrible isola- 
tion that separated her from her happier sis- 
ters. And while she lay worn, fainting, 
blinded, in the desert wastes of her life, a noble 
woman came to her, and showed her how the 
energy of her thwarted instincts might still 
bring happiness to others. Her depression van- 
ished. Her heart overflowed with sympathy for 
the blind among the poor. Baptized with the 
Holy Ghost she went forth from the darkened 
chamber of her life to begin a ministry to the 
blind poor in the great city of London. She 
opened a little shop for the sale of baskets 
made by them. The business grew. Soon an 
association was formed to carry on this work 
and in time it showed a balance sheet of $35,000. 
" Don't work yourself to death," said a friend 
to her one day. And with a smile she answered, 
" I am working myself to life." 

How we wish every sufferer could find some 
similar balm for deep seated grief! God does 



96 



CONCERNING LIFE 



not send affliction upon us. I cannot believe 
that. But it is the nature of life that it has 
its trials and its losses. And in the hour of 
trial God offers us the opportunity of turning 
from the life of self to the life of fellow-serv- 
ice. The wounded oyster mends itself with 
pearl! Sometimes affliction drives one in upon 
himself. Lost in his own grief the sufferer be- 
comes indifferent to the misery of others. I 
always dread to hear of affliction in a family for 
I never know how disastrous its effect may be 
upon some naturally good man or woman. But 
then on the other hand it may be the opening of 
the eyes to a broader path of duty. When the 
sun sets, the stars of heaven come out. You 
have lost your friend, erect his memorial in the 
loving service of others. A follower of Ma- 
homet once asked him what sort of a monu- 
ment he should erect for his departed mother. 
" Dig her a well in the desert," answered the 
prophet. 

How many maimed, tortured lives have been 
made channels of love and sympathy and tender 
ministration for others? I do not wonder that 
profound thinkers have looked upon suffering 
as one of God's means of bringing men into 
His service. I do not wonder that the pious 
Psalmist could say — " Whom the Lord loveth 



THE OPENED EYES 9T 



he chasteneth." Dead to the world, one may 
live nearer God. Like the persecutor, like the 
sinner, the sufferer also may have his eyes 
opened to the beauty, the goodness, the great 
possibilities of love in this world. With 
Christ, with St. Paul, with all the saints and 
martyrs of the Church he may be called to 
preach the Gospel of peace and good will among 
men. 



X 



THE BARREL OF MEAL AND THE 
CRUSE OF OIL 

— the barrel of meal shall not waste, neither 
shall the cruse of oil fail. — I Kings xvii, 14*. 

This remarkable generosity of the poor widow 
emphasizes her feeling for the time honored vir- 
tue of the Orient, hospitality. She was willing 
to share her last cake and the last drop of oil 
with the stranger whose need touched her heart. 
Death stared her in the face. Undaunted, she 
was faithful to her thought of duty. With 
what seems a sublime recklessness, a magnificent 
disregard of her own need, she shared her last 
handful of meal with the prophet who in the 
name of God asked for food. And God, we 
read, rewarded that generous spirit by the 
miraculous perpetuation of the scanty supply. 

It is a beautiful story, one we may well pon- 
der in these days when hospitality is in some 
danger of becoming a lost art among people of 
modest means who think they cannot entertain 
98 



THE BARREL OF MEAL 99 



unless they do it lavishly. The true hospitality 
is that which shares, which admits the stranger 
to the family circle without making it an un- 
due burden or expense. 

I should like, however, to take this old world 
story as an allegory, a hint of what life may 
mean for us. Let us think of the handful of 
meal and of the few drops of oil as representing 
respectively the natural strength and the natu- 
ral joy of life. When we live nobly, when we 
are loyal to our standard, they will not fail us. 
Scanty as they often seem, in God's providence 
they are made sufficient. 

I think that is a truth we often see in the 
lives of our friends. We see it as regards phys- 
ical strength. The man or woman of delicate 
constitution frequently outlives the robust com- 
panion. 

Some years ago I knew a lovely and very 
delicate woman whose husband told me that 
twenty-five years earlier her physician had de- 
clared her a consumptive and given her but a 
short lease of life. To-day, after all these years 
since that ominous diagnosis, nearly forty, she 
is alive, well, and has survived her husband, 
a man of large frame and apparently vigorous 
constitution. There is no more certain maxim 
in the physician's code than " while there is 



LOFC. 



100 CONCERNING LIFE 



life there is hope." Prudence is often of more 
value than bodily, vigor. 

In our own experience also we realize this im- 
pressive truth — " As thy day so shall thy 
strength be." It is this marvelous strength, 
miraculous we are almost tempted to say, that 
sustains our moral life. If we could foresee 
all the coming evil, the sickness, the poverty, the 
loss of friends, the disappointments, it is very 
doubtful if we could make up our minds to 
endure it. Certainly, that is the feeling we 
have when we stand aghast, grieving, terror- 
stricken in the presence of another's trial, such 
as blindness, paralysis, poverty, family disgrace. 
Blessed be ignorance we often exclaim! Yet 
the impressive fact is that soon or late, just 
such afflictions come to most people, and the 
man or woman who has shrunk from the ordeal, 
finds his power of endurance in the day of trial. 
From time to time I go to see a friend suf- 
fering from a hopeless disease, a helpless, almost 
speechless invalid; again and again have I said 
to myself: Better death than such a life, in- 
finitely better the swift and painless flight of the 
spirit than such prolonged misery, than such a 
dependence upon others! And then, to my as- 
tonishment, I find in that victim of disease, a 
serenity of spirit, a quiet acquiescence in the 



■ 



THE BARREL OF MEAL 101 



suffering, even an enjoyment of life's remain- 
ing gifts, that I cannot easily understand. 
Wonderful is this power of our human nature! 
Magnificent is this triumph of the spirit ! 

As the years pass, we all discover our weak- 
ness. It is not long before we know trial and 
temptation. There are few of us, if any, who 
do not have to struggle, who do not at times 
wonder how we can get through the day, the 
week, the month. On that day, we say, the 
paroxysm returns, on that anniversary I mourn 
my dead, on that occasion I must face my se- 
cret temptation, that week ushers in the changed 
fortune. God help me! May I survive the 
eventful day and hour ! 

Yet the handful of meal is sufficient. The 
supply of strength does not fail the conscien- 
tious man or woman. In God's mercy, our 
strength is equal to our need. The man who 
fails, and many do fail, is the man without 
character, the man who does not rise to his 
duty, the man who relies solely upon physical 
strength. That is not enough. That is certain 
to fail. After middle age, if not before, life 
is a struggle for health. It is not a time to 
win new fields, but to hold the old fortress. 
But in the moral life, how differently it stands ! 
The vacillation of youth is succeeded by the 



102 CONCERNING LIFE 



steadfastness of manhood. Often the highest 
strength of character is not seen until it strug- 
gles against disease of body or terrible tempta- 
tions of the will. The reported miracles of 
Christ's life do not impress us as the moral 
courage in which He faced an ignominious and 
excruciating death. And that moral grandeur 
is the mark of His disciples in every age. In 
His name they have endured the cross of neglect, 
humiliation, martyrdom; they have overcome 
foes without and fears within. Their handful 
of strength has not failed them ; God's grace has 
sustained them in the time of drought. 

So, also, we may say, of the duties we owe 
to one another. In our relation to them, as in 
what particularly concerns ourselves, the con- 
scientious men and women find strength in the 
hour of need. 

" When duty whispers low Thou must. 
The youth replies I can." 

We pay for the privileges of companionship 
by constant obligations. At times they are 
oppressive. Many shirk them. Not always be- 
cause they are seeking pleasure; but often be- 
cause they do not feel they have sufficient 
strength to perform them. If the young are 
fickle, the aged are infirm. It is not always 



THE BARREL OF MEAL 103 



easy to give the dollar, to take the time, to 
make the effort. That we well know. I ought 
to do it, we say, but I do not see how I can. 
Well, there again the conscientious spirit is 
strengthened for the task. In God's provi- 
dence the scanty store is perpetuated. 

" The tasks in hours of insight willed 
Can be through hours of gloom fulfilled." 

Is not that a common experience? We go to 
the meeting, we sit on the committee, we do the 
errand, we write the letter, we perform the 
work; just as the housekeeper attends to her 
morning duties, just as the man goes to the 
office, obedient to the immediate call even when 
head and heart are weary. 

We are very apt to forget that drudgery is 
the secret of success. We know that we drudge, 
but we forget that the most brilliant career is 
impossible without this assiduous toil. The 
stateman has his long hours of cabinet discus- 
sion, the poet paces the garden walk seeking 
the missing rhyme, the artist paints until his 
wrist aches, the merchant prince carries his per- 
plexities to the table and often to his bed. Pres- 
ident Roosevelt and Pierpont Morgan and John 
S. Sargent understand drudgery quite as well 
as you and I do. In our moral duties, in our 



104< CONCERNING LIFE 



social responsibility, just as in business, we 
of our spiritual nature. When we are faithful 
performance. It is the loyalty to our ideal, 
whatever may be our physical or mental weari- 
ness. 

And this is the triumph, the glorious victory 
of our spiritual nature. When we are faithful 
God gives us strength to be to others what we 
wish to be, the friend and helper, the encourag- 
ing voice, the helping hand, " the feet on mercy's 
errands swift." That is the Christian life — 
strength in weakness. Hear the testimony of 
St. Paul. He is telling us of the thorn in the 
flesh, of that mysterious unexplained trial of 
his life ; " For this thing I besought the Lord 
thrice that it might depart from me. And He 
said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee, 
for my strength is made perfect in weakness." 
Then the Apostle rises to his full height. 
" Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in 
reproaches, in necessities, in persecution, in 
distresses, for Christ's sake, for when I am 
weak, then am I strong." 

I have said we would let the cruse of oil rep- 
resent the joy of life. It is as true of the 
enjoyment of life as of our moral strength that 
in God's providence it is made sufficient for our 
need. The one essential thing is that life should 



THE BARREL OF MEAL 105 



be lived nobly, with high aims, in purity of 
heart. The pleasures that fail are those of the 
body. They who live for the flesh are certain 
to know satiety. In our youth we all make the 
mistake of thinking that we can be happy only 
if we succeed in making money, in gaining some 
conspicuous position, in doing some great thing. 
We have a horror of mediocrity. Experience 
soon corrects that error. Happiness is an affair 
of the spirit. It is a matter of temperament, 
not of fortune. There is an old story of a 
Persian King who had a painful malady that 
was to be cured by wearing the shirt of a happy 
man. At last the happy man was found, a 
poor man, a peasant, and he had no shirt. It is 
when we turn from the possession of things to 
the attainments of the mind that we are truly 
rich, that we may be called happy. It is not 
the possession of a great library, of first edi- 
tions, and fine bindings, these pleasures of the 
wealthy bibliophile, that affords the lasting 
happiness: rather is it found in the knowl- 
edge of books; the works of history and 
science, the great biographies, the immortal 
poets, the higher fiction. 

So also the mystery and beauty of the chang- 
ing seasons, " the frolic architecture of the 
snow," the impulse of the vernal wood, the 



106 CONCERNING LIFE 



orient splendors of the sunset, the purple hills, 
and the crested waves of the sea — all these have 
the power to impart delight to the sensitive 
spirit. Best of all, we know, is that faithful 
companionship of friends that deepens with the 
years and intensifies the joy held in common. 

" O friend, my bosom said, 

Through thee alone the sky is arched 

Through thee the rose is red; 

All things through thee take nobler form, 

And look beyond the earth." 

In our sober thought we perceive that God 
has made as ample provision for our happiness 
as for our subsistence. The same nature that 
supplies our bodily wants also ministers to our 
enjoyment. The same friends that strengthen 
us for our duties also fill our lives with happi- 
ness. The happy life is that which yields to 
all good influences in the serene confidence that 
these are God's provisions for us, the communi- 
cation of His own joy to us His children. For 
the devout soul the supply does not fail, the 
cruse never becomes empty. We may be happy 
as well as strong, even in adversity, with the 
knowledge of our integrity. When Dante was 
in exile from his beloved Florence, he was given 
permission to return but under unworthy condi- 



THE BARREL OF MEAL 107 



tions. He declined and wrote in reply — " Can 
I not everywhere behold the sun and stars, 
everywhere meditate upon the noblest truths? 
. Even my bread will not fail me." 

There are times of spiritual drought. We 
have lost our friend, our income shrinks, age 
enfeebles our power, we experience some bitter 
disappointment; only a few drops of oil remain 
in the cruse. Yet the scanty supply does not 
fail. After the first shock is over we turn 
back to the book, to nature, to our friend, to 
our work, and we find the old joy; chastened 
indeed by our deeper experience but wiser men 
and women. 

I have not spoken of religion in so many 
words. Yet is not such a life of moral strength 
and pure joys religious? For such a life is 
lived in God, in His spirit. It accepts all its 
blessings, even the discipline of the years, as 
from His hand. It is the life we praise and 
covet for ourselves. It was the life of Christ, 
our Exemplar Who always felt Himself in 
God's presence, and in His sorrows as in His 
joys always clung to the Father's hand. It 
is our faith — that whatever earthly fortune 
await us, it is God's universe and no evil can 
touch the souls of them that trust Him. It is 
the fulfilment of ancient prophecy, " they that 



108 CONCERNING LIFE 



■wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; 
they shall mount up on wings as eagles, they 
shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk 
and not faint." 



XI 



THE THREEFOLD CORD 
— a threefold cord is not easily broken. — 

EcCLESIASTES IV, 12. 

Next Sunday we open another volume of life 
and with glad and expectant eyes glance into 
the future. But to-day we review for the last 
time the volume that has held our attention the 
past twelve months and try, to draw from its 
incidents some helpful lesson. 

In retrospect we are more often impressed by 
the losses than by the gains, by defeat rather 
than victory. The close of a year, like the 
close of a life, cannot fail to bring many sorrow- 
ful reflections. In this little pause between the 
gayety of Christmas and the inspiration of New 
Years, our failure, our losses, our grievous dis- 
appointments troop around us and dismay us 
by their number and magnitude. We wonder 
how we have borne the burden of life so long, 
109 



110 CONCERNING LIFE 



and we look with something of dread at the pros- 
pect of another year similar to the one that now 
ends. I want to speak this morning therefore to 
the men and women who are weighted down by 
the burden they carry, who at this time see little 
prospect of release, who do not care to look far 
into the future, but rather seek 

" Some sad mechanic exercise 
Like dull narcotics numbing pain." 

At once I admit all the evil of which you 
complain. I can understand why men will say 
it is the Devil's world, and the little gains of 
good are offset by gross evils. Like you I see 
much individual suffering, gross corruption in 
political and commercial life, strife and hatred 
in the world of labor, and great injustices in our 
social system. Like you, I see the impaired 
strength, the fallen fortunes, the stigma of scan- 
dal, the bereavement of death. And who escapes 
the burden, as the years pass? 

" Into each life some rain must fall, 
Some days must be dark and dreary." 

Not only the number and magnitude of the 
burdens men carry oppress us, but even more 
are we dismayed by what I may call their inev- 
itability, the knowledge we have that many of 



THE THREEFOLD CORD 111 



them cannot be avoided. Take for instance that 
great affliction we call Death, that soon or late 
enters into every household and sunders the most 
tender and helpful of relations. 

Or take Poverty, which we naturally look 
upon as an evil, how frequently it comes upon 
us a thief in the night! We lay great stress 
upon personal freedom, the power to direct 
one's life, the ability to make provision for sick- 
ness and old age; and yet how often the toil, 
thrift and temperance of a life-time are made 
null by the speculative spirit of another, by, 
some betrayal of trust, by some unforeseen ca- 
lamity ! 

Or let us even take Disgrace, which might 
seem to be always within a man's own power, 
and here we must admit that the passionate na- 
ture is an inheritance, that the weakness of 
will is often the result of parental neglect, and 
that the circumstances, powerful, compelling al- 
most, call for extenuation. 

Or Disappointment let us take, as year after 
year we have to surrender our cherished plans, 
because our ambition has overweighted our 
ability or our health or our opportunity. We 
teach the growing boy that all things are pos- 
sible for the steadfast will, and then in every 
decade of his life he is forced to strip off some 



112 CONCERNING LIFE 



of the coats of personal ambition his eager spirit 
has put on. 

The tragedy of life lies in the fact, not that 
there are so many evils, but that so many evils 
are inevitable, that the strands of Death and 
Misfortune and Disappointment are woven into 
the very web of life. Our losses are the harder 
to bear, because in so many instances we do not 
feel responsible for them; they have come to 
us through our relations with others, or else, 
as with impaired health and death, they are a 
part of our destiny. 

" The Moving Finger writes ; and having writ 
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit 
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line, 
Nor all your Tears wash out a word of it." 

Well, after all is said the burden must be 
carried. The more it seems to us inevitable, the 
less reason there is for idle repining, the more 
reason for finding the easiest way of carrying it. 

I speak first of the cord of Philosophy by 
which the burden may be more easily borne. 
This is that broad survey of life in which all 
individual fortunes are subordinated to the wel- 
fare of the community. Thus, for example, 
when machinery took the place of the hand and 
foot looms, hundreds of sober, industrious work- 



THE THREEFOLD CORD 113 



men with families to support were thrown out 
of employment. This industrial change was 
hard upon many an artisan, but what a revolu- 
tion it effected in the increased amount and im- 
proved quality of clothing for the great mul- 
titude of laborers ! It is so with the adoption of 
every practical invention; the few are injured, 
the many are benefited. The railway train de- 
stroys the business of the old coaches and the 
wayside inns. The electric light in our streets 
has forced so many lamplighters into some other 
business. In our industrial system these 
changes are constantly taking place ; an influx 
of capital, a fresh invention, the needs of a new 
community, even fashion, may cause any month 
a serious change that while it benefits men in 
general, means a heavy burden for the special- 
ized laborer. When we see distress resulting 
from such a cause, our compassion for the work- 
man must not blind us to the welfare of the 
community. It is of incalculable importance 
that the community should profit by all these in- 
ventions to lighten labor or increase produc- 
tion, and the utmost we can or should do, is to 
help the unemployed man to readjust himself to 
the new conditions. 

Philosophy also reconciles us to the fierce com- 
petition among brain workers, among all those 



114 CONCERNING LIFE 



who aim to guide, instruct or amuse. Intellectu- 
ally, as well as industrially, necessity is the 
mother of invention. Our sympathy is nat- 
urally with the unsuccessful man of letters or 
with the struggling music teachers; but in the 
realm of art as in the animal kingdom, it is im- 
portant that the fittest should survive. Noth- 
ing is more important than that mediocrity 
should fail. In time people, like opinions, find 
their level. As there can be no top without a 
bottom, the few persons of distinction imply a 
vast number of conscientious, patient, plodding 
men and women whose services have a value, to 
be sure, but can never command much attention. 

If we turn from the want of the world to 
the sin of the world, Philosophy comes to our 
aid and says in the luminous words of Emerson 
— that when nature wants to make a point she 
underscores it. In this light we must under- 
stand very much of the moral evil of life; as 
was said of dirt, it is matter in the wrong place. 
The instincts of men are natural, healthy, neces- 
sary. They exist in nature's economy in order 
to do her work. It is their perversion, their 
abuse, their misdirected aims that lead to the 
serious offenses. Vice will always dog the foot- 
steps of healthy and high-spirited men and 
women, watching the chance to spring upon the 



THE THREEFOLD CORD 115 



unguarded instincts. In the condemnation we 
have constantly to pass upon the evil-doer, let 
us not forget that vice is the exception, not the 
rule; that the same instincts underly the happy 
home, the honorable ambition, the splendid lead- 
ership. 

Turn also to that great Shadow that soon or 
late casts its gloom over every household. In 
calm, reflective mood, we see that Death is one 
of the great, beneficent forces of the world. 
There are times when it comes prematurely to 
the happy household, and we cry out against 
the seeming injustice. But how often do we say 
of some storm-tossed soul — " After life's fitful 
fever he sleeps well." And by the tomb of many 
a noble man, many a saintly woman, we think of 
Milton's triumphant lines — 

" Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, 
Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, 
And what may quiet us in a death so noble." 

We cannot always say these things in the 
chamber of death ; but in our hours of reflection 
we see that Death and Life are the concave and 
convex sides of the same arc. We are here for 
awhile, we have our opportunity and then we 
give the torch into the hand of a fresh runner. 



116 CONCERNING LIFE 



Thus the burden of life is more easily carried 
by this cord of Philosophy. It means taking 
the large view, rising, in so far as is possible, 
above our individual needs, and seeing the benef- 
icence of the great laws of Nature that far out- 
weighs the incidental evil. It is saying, with 
King Henry at Agincourt, " There is some soul 
of good in things evil, would men observingly 
distil it out." 

You will say that this is a help to bear the 
burdens of another, rather than one's own. And 
you are right. But I think there was never a 
time when men were more sensitive to another's 
suffering. We do bear one another's burdens, 
and this broader view of life, this fixing 
of the eyes upon the welfare of the community 
as a whole, will save us from very much idle 
lament. 

For our personal burden the cord of Heroism 
is needed. There is a certain manly spirit that 
can stand up in the presence of great misfortune 
and like the Saxon Fitz- James defy all its foes. 
It is the splendid assertion of man's spiritual 
power. It proves that a man is greater than 
the circumstances of his life. He may be poor; 
no matter, he can be happy, content with the 
plain living and high thinking of his ideal. He 
may have vicious impulses to fight; well, he will 



THE THREEFOLD CORD 117 



fight them, and after the hard struggle of the 
day he lies down at night, still in armor. Death 
snatches away his cherished friend, and he says 
I will find comfort in the beautiful past, and he 
goes back to the familiar duties of his life. 

There are not many things in this world more 
inspiring than this spectacle of heroic manhood. 
There is many a man to-day, without religious 
faith, his eyes upon the earth, to whom the skies 
are silent, who in the integrity of his manhood, 
very quietly, very simply, just as a matter of 
course, takes up the burden that falls to him and 
marches on in such homely, yet heroic fashion, 
that almost involuntarily we pick up our own 
bundle and fall into line. It is a part of that 
instinctive bravery we see in our policemen, our 
firemen, our railway engineers. How many such 
men we know, men who accept the disastrous re- 
sults of another's blunder, and, like the famous 
six hundred, march steadily onward, with no hope 
shining before their eyes, but with the grim de- 
termination to face the inevitable and be loyal 
to their manhood! Life may be tragic, but it 
can still be spiritual, they say. You can strip 
me of all my possessions, you can deprive me of 
my friends, you may heat me in the furnace of 
affliction; but there will always be something be- 
yond your reach, and that something is my own 



118 CONCERNING LIFE 



unconquerable will. That was the spirit of 
Prometheus who brought fire to men and defied 
the wrath of Zeus. That was the spirit of the 
Stoic Epictetus who calmly remarked after the 
torture — I said you would break my leg. That 
is the spirit that must have no slight control 
over a man's life as he passes from youth to 
manhood, and from manhood to old age. The 
larger and richer a man's life is, the more in- 
terests that claim his service, the more friends 
he has grappled to his soul with hoops of steel, 
all this means an added susceptibility. He 
is vulnerable at so many points. He can- 
not go unscathed through life. He must for- 
tify himself in the old Stoic investiture of a 
loftiness of spirit that o'ertops all the decora- 
tions of prosperity and friendship, and can 
even face the " King of Terrors " with equa- 
nimity. 

Some of you are saying — That is very well, 
but it does not help me in my time of trouble. 
I can admire that spirit in another, but " it is 
too high for me, I cannot attain unto it." In 
its way Heroism seems as unsatisfactory as 
Philosophy. In our time of distress we want 
comfort. It's very unheroic, but it's very hu- 
man, when Disaster stands like a lion in the way 
or Death knocks at the door, to look for com- 



THE THREEFOLD CORD 119 



panionship, to turn to some one who understands 
and sympathizes. 

And again I answer you are right. And this 
time I speak to the religious nature and say — 
" Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall 
sustain thee." Add to your Philosophy of life 
and to your natural Heroism personal Religion, 
a threefold cord is not easily broken. 

Religion means, has always meant, the recog- 
nition of a divine Spirit in the universe, and 
man's conscious attempt to hold communion with 
that Spirit. I know it's not as easy as it once 
was to believe in a God that can be known by 
men, and yet millions of men and women do be- 
lieve in Him, and from that belief draw strength 
for all the vicissitudes of life. Religion, far 
more than Social Philosophy, far more than per- 
sonal Heroism, has been the stay of men in the 
dark days of their trial. For Religion is not the 
intellectual perception of the laws of the uni- 
verse, but the deep feeling that the Spirit of the 
universe shares the very sorrow its laws have 
caused, even as you grieve when you punish the 
disobedient child. 

I hardly know how to express the thought, 
there is the danger of self-contradiction; yet do 
we not feel, more or less vaguely it may be, that 
through these laws of nature, which at times 



120 CONCERNING LIFE 



bear so heavily upon us, the Divine Spirit is in 
some way expressing itself, and that therefore 
all life, weak, erring, broken as it often seems 
to be, has its meaning! We must not think of 
the Divine Spirit as less just, less tender, less 
compassionate than our own spirits. From the 
very wealth of man's nature we may infer the 
treasures of God's justice and mercy. 

Thus the religious man can see that health 
and prosperity are not the last words. Some 
of the noblest, most lovable people we know are 
invalids, or poor in this world's goods, or walk- 
ing with uplifted eye through the valley of the 
Shadows, and when evil overtakes the upright, 
as it does constantly, in spite of the brave asser- 
tions of the Psalmist, our religion lets us feel 
that the Divine sympathy goes out and envelops 
the afflicted heart. The foxes had holes, and 
the birds of the air had nests, but the Son of 
Man had not where to lay his head. Yet was 
it sufficient comfort for Jesus that in prayer 
he could commune with his Father. That has 
been the experience of the saints and martyrs 
of the church — they have heard with St. 
Paul the words — " My grace is sufficient for 
thee." 

Religion looks at the sinner, not like Philos- 
ophy to say, let the weak perish and not cor- 



THE THREEFOLD CORD 121 



rupt the sound, but to offer the probation of 
another life — to declare 

" That not one life shall be destroyed, 
Or cast as rubbish to the void, 
When God hath made the pile complete." 

Religion goes with a man down into the val- 
ley of shadows only to point out the sunset 
glow upon the distant hills. As our friends 
leave us, we believe it is for some other of the 
many mansions. 

I cannot prove these things. They are hardly 
susceptible of proof by one man to another. 
They are the outcome of an experience many 
have known, and they are the intimations of our 
most solemn moments. In the affection of our 
friends, and in the words of Christ, we come 
near to that secret, mystical communion of the 
Divine and human which is at once the ideal 
and the possession of religion. And in our own 
lives, it is, in the beautiful words of a modern 
thinker, not what we are, but what in seeking 
Him we become that is God's revelation to us. 



XII 



THE CHURCH AND OUR YOUNG MEN 
I speak as to wise men — I Con. x, 15. 

I want to speak this morning to the young 
men of this society, taking advantage of the 
privilege your parents gave me when they made 
me minister of this church, to say a few plain 
words about your relation to the church. 

In the first place you are the children of this 
church because your parents are attendants here, 
and most of you have at one time been in the 
Sunday School. The church therefore has not 
only an interest in you, but in a sense feels some 
responsibility for you. By this I mean that the 
good men and women of this society, some of 
whom it is very likely you do not personally 
know, know you and sincerely care that you 
should become useful, honorable, successful men. 
It is a feeling not unlike that our city has for 
its citizens ; there is a body of sentiment in this 
community that feels an honorable pride in every 
distinguished man who has ever lived in this his- 
122 



OUR YOUNG MEN 123 



toric town, and is also humiliated when crime or 
scandal touches any one of our number. It may 
be that you are indifferent to this sentiment, that 
you ask in petulant amusement why strangers 
should feel an interest in your welfare; but the 
fact is unalterable, there is such an interest, the 
people of this society know of you, think about 
you, would be most glad to help you if you 
should ever want their help. And this influence 
is not to be despised; it is a part of your moral 
environment, it supplements the influence of the 
home and the school. 

I do not know how you feel when you open 
the paper morning after morning to read of 
some terrible crime or shocking scandal, but I 
frankly confess that I am frightened when I 
see how frequently the offense comes and how 
astonished we are to learn who the offender is. 
I find myself saying — " Who will be the 
next? " Every little while I hear some unpleas- 
ant story about a respected family that makes 
me think of St. Paul's words, " Wherefore let 
him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he 
fall." If you have thought at all upon this 
matter of wrong-doing you have remarked two 
things: first, how very many people there are 
who go astray ; and, secondly, how very often 
the wrongdoer comes from what we call a good 



124 CONCERNING LIFE 



family. Under these circumstances a little fear 
for ourselves is wholesome. I am not trying to 
frighten you. I am simply reminding you that 
it was never easier for a well-meaning man to do 
wrong, for a boy who has had a good home, a 
good education, the society of the best people, 
to wreck his life by idly drifting among the 
quicksands of youthful passions or business 
speculation. 

Some of you have read Romola, that famous 
story by George Eliot of Florentine life in the 
fifteenth century. It is a wonderful tale of one 
of the famous cities of the world. The heroine, 
Romola, married one of the most attractive char- 
acters fiction has ever created, the Greek, Tito 
Melemma with his handsome face, his winning 
manners, his ready wit, his versatile mind, his 
exceeding cleverness, his real kindness of heart. 
But this young man came at last to do some of 
the most dastardly things a man can do. He 
betrays every trust reposed in him, he tricks his 
employers, he is faithless to his wife, he denies 
and abandons to misery his adopted father. 
And he comes to do these things simply because 
he is thinking only of his own pleasures, and 
shirks every duty honorable men assume. The 
author gives us a masterly analysis of wrong- 
doing. The old-fashioned villain of melodrama 



OUR YOUNG MEN 125 



and popular novels is rarely found in actual life. 
The bad man is nearly always the man who has 
been led into wrong-doing by his self-indulgence, 
by his unwillingness to do the unpleasant things 
Duty often requires of a man, by the very nat- 
ural desire to have " a good time." He was once 
what we all call a good fellow, bright, attractive, 
ingenious, popular. You and I know a great 
many such men. The evildoer, in the words of 
Shakespeare, was once the youth who " the 
primrose path of dalliance treads and reeks not 
his own rede." 

It was never so easy as it is to-day for young 
men to get into bad ways. The old Puritan 
restraints of our New England life are relaxed; 
we enjoy more personal liberty, both at home 
and in college, than our fathers did; when we go 
into business we find a low commercial standard, 
the question being, not how is a man making 
money, but is he making money ; in the theatres 
where every one expects to go from time to time 
there are situations and speeches that are a con- 
stant provocation to the passions; in the clubs 
there are questionable stories, jests and innuen- 
does ; the novels and newspapers we read are very 
apt to deaden our sensibilities to the finer side 
of life by making us too familiar with many 
forms of vice and crime. 



126 CONCERNING LIFE 



All of us prize this personal freedom, no one 
of us likes to be restricted to routine duties, 
every high-spirited man feels a certain exhilara- 
tion in the freedom and varied interests of our 
modern life. And for this very reason it is not 
always so easy to know the right thing to do. 
No one wants to be thought narrow-minded or 
superstitious or prudish. This is especially true 
of young men who have been brought up in good 
families, who have had every social advantage, 
who soon come to feel that they are a little su- 
perior to the average young man. But you can 
easily see the danger in such a state of mind. 

A friend of mine, whose son had entered col- 
lege and was treading that primrose path of 
dalliance, once told me that he was not going 
to see his son wrecked by gilded vice of " the 
smart set," and so sent the boy down to the 
lumber camps of Maine where he would see vice 
in its gross, its repulsive forms. It was heroic 
treatment, but it saved the imperilled life. 
When I think of all the attractive guise of evil, 
the easy stages by which a man goes from honor 
to dishonesty, from self-respect to open shame, 
I am afraid for you; I am afraid for myself, 
and I say, " Let him that thinketh he standeth, 
take heed lest he fall." 

Now the Church stands, and has always stood, 



OUR YOUNG MEN 



for moral purity. It's influence is one we can- 
not afford to lose from our lives. It is a little 
thing for you to give an hour every Sunday to 
its service. It is a great thing for you to have 
its influence for personal purity, for business in- 
tegrity, for a high sense of honor, from week 
to week in your lives. It speaks to you of these 
moral values as the school and college do not 
pretend to do; as business life rarely does; as 
the home sometimes fails to do. Here and there 
you will see wrongdoers in the congregation; 
and then the question to ask is — what would 
these same men be without this church influence ! 
what would they be if they did not hear the 
worth of purity and integrity and honor set 
forth each Sunday! I speak as a man to men, 
about the things of manhood; as one who is too 
much the child of our modern life not to feel its 
many and seductive influences. 

I wonder how many young men of to-day 
have read Sartor Resartus, that book by Thomas 
Carlyle that stirred our fathers to a more ear- 
nest purpose. Carlyle was very far from being 
a perfunctory preacher; he had as great a dis- 
like to religious cant as you and I have; he 
lived in a stirring time and he entered into its 
many interests. And yet the burden of his 
prophecy was " Love not Pleasure, love God." 



128 CONCERNING LIFE 



That is to say, don't think merely of having 
" a good time," but think of being a man ; think 
of standing for those things that win the respect 
of the community. One of our public-spirited 
citizens has frequently told me that he finds it 
difficult to interest the young men of this city 
in any responsible work. They like to play 
golf, they have a firm seat on the saddle of a 
bicycle, they like to attend the assemblies, they 
en j oy the smoke talks at the club ; but when they 
are asked to help along some work, to take some 
responsible position, they edge off. Responsi- 
bility is a sign of manhood. That is what Car- 
lyle had in mind when he said, Love not Pleas- 
ure, love God. This is the teaching of the 
church. This is the first object of your parents 
when they help to support this church, that your 
lives shall be stronger and nobler. I am putting 
the case strongly, and I know I have your re- 
spect for doing so. I am saying what your 
fathers themselves would say, that no influence 
can be disdained that will fortify our natural 
intention to be upright and honorable men. 

A member of this society once told me — " I 
want my family to go to church; I am proud 
of my children and want to see them in my pew ; 
but I don't like to order them to go to church." 
Of course a man does not want to order his sons 



OUR YOUNG MEN 129 



who are in business or college to do the thing 
that so obviously ought to be done. And just 
because it is so little he asks, just because an 
hour Sunday morning out of the whole week, is 
so little to ask from his fortunate sons, he hates 
to din away week after week on the old theme. 
Instead, he hopes and prays for the time when 
his sons shall become men and put away childish 
things. 

Let me turn now to another side of this ques- 
tion and speak of the other aspect of the church 
life. I have spoken of morality, let me speak 
of religion, the religion of youth. I am very 
well aware that many young men do not want 
to make any profession of religion, for they 
have come to believe that religion means a 
much higher standard of conduct than they 
can easily maintain. It also means a certain 
mystical sentiment of devotion that is foreign to 
young, eager, active lives. And we have to face 
the historical fact, that religion has often, most 
often in fact, been presented in just this light. 

I remember when a lad, once being told by a 
pious aunt that a certain boy of my own age 
found his recreation in prayer meetings. I re- 
member even now the immediate feeling of con- 
temptuous aversion I had for one who seemed 
to me so unnatural a specimen of boyhood. But 



130 CONCERNING LIFE 



that type of youthful piety is passing away. 
There are few ministers who do not frankly 
recognize that the religion of youth is, and 
should be, quite different from the religion of 
age. It is constantly taught in our pulpits that 
religion should not make one less, but more, of 
a man, that the church does not ask you to deny 
yourself any of the things that make you a 
broader or wiser man. All wholesome amuse- 
ments, all good books, all manly sports, are ad- 
mitted to be the natural helps to a well rounded 
manhood. What the ministers of religion mean 
when they speak of the religion of youth is some- 
thing very simple, something very easily learned. 
It is that a young man should feel that God 
has given him life and expects him to live it 
nobly. He is not to deny himself any clean and 
wholesome pleasures, he is not to forego the 
studies that can give him the culture all of us 
prize, he is not to neglect any honest opportu- 
nity to become rich and influential. But he is 
expected to remember that his life is to be up- 
right and useful to others; that the more ad- 
vantages he himself has, the better service he can 
render his fellow men. As Milton says in the 
sonnet commemorating his twenty-third birth- 
day, speaking of the hrward ripeness of his mind, 
which he fears is not as mature as it should be, 



OUR YOUNG MEN 131 



" All is, if I have grace to use it so, 

As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye." 

Nearly a generation ago the wise and genial 
Thomas Hughes, whose Tom Brown at Oxford 
we all know and love, wrote a little book called 
The Manliness of Christ, wherein he pointed out 
that the popular conception of Jesus, represent- 
ing Him as so much above our humanity, giving 
Him almost a certain effeminacy of character, 
had blinded our eyes to His essential manliness. 
It is a book youth should know. Let us remem- 
ber that Jesus enjoyed social intercourse, that 
His sympathies were very broad, His country- 
men thought He was a radical and a reformer, 
seeking His friends wherever he found fresh, 
original minds; He was sensitive to the beauty 
of the mountainous country where He lived, and 
He was stern and indignant, as you and I would 
be, when He saw injustice and hypocrisy. To 
follow Christ, to call Him Master, means only 
two things; first, that even as He did, we mean 
to go about doing good ; in our own way, as best 
we can ; and, secondly, that in His spirit we want 
to believe that this is God's world, and that all 
honest, faithful work has His approval. That 
is what religion should mean to all who are young 
in years and keenly interested in the social and 



132 CONCERNING LIFE 



business and political life of the day. If you 
are making headway in your business, seeing 
your course clear to a position of honor and 
responsibility, rejoice in your prospects and be- 
lieve that this ability to succeed in life is a gift 
from God, which you can use in generous, pub- 
lic-spirited ways. If you love books and covet 
the scholar's life, feeling that you have chosen 
the better part, you may well anticipate happy 
if uneventful days; but remember that learning 
as w T ell as wealth is to be shared by others, that 
you are not debarred from the helpful service of 
those who have not your opportunities. If you 
are attracted to political life, and what can be 
higher than this public service of the state ! then 
that is undoubtedly the work God wishes you to 
do, and you can carry into it the purest, the 
most unselfish patriotism, something very much 
needed in our civil government. 

Now the Church tries to inculcate all this 
larger, nobler conception of life in the minds of 
its children. It takes all these natural ambi- 
tions of our lives, all the homely routine duties 
of every occupation and sets them in the broad 
framework of our relation to God. John Rus- 
kin, one of the great teachers of our modern 
world, a man of the finest culture, of large 
wealth, whose writings on art have stimulated 



OUR YOUNG MEN 133 



the whole art world of English speaking men 
and which you will read with absorbing interest 
when you come to them, said that the artist 
should give every interior, however humble it 
might be, however mean the furniture, however 
devoid of comfort the little home might seem, 
an open window or door through which might 
be seen something of the infinite blue sky above 
us all. 

The Church is the open door. It shows us the 
worth and dignity of human effort. It needs 
you, it needs every young life, for some day, in 
no distant future, you must carry on its work, 
even as you must carry on the other work of the 
world. And you will find yourselves stronger 
and happier men as you share its life and aid its 
work, for it will fortify you against the hours 
of temptation and it will also give you the con- 
sciousness of a Divine relationship. 



XIII 



GIDEON'S BAND 

— By the three hundred men that lapped will I 
save you, and deliver the Midianites into thine 
hand: and let all the other people go every man 
to his place. — Judges vii, 7. 

The chapter from which our text is taken 
gives us the origin of that famous phrase Gid- 
eon's Band, a proverbial expression for a small 
and valiant knot of warriors. Gideon was one 
of the judges, or generals as we should say, of 
Israel when that people was trying to establish 
itself in Canaan. He was a commanding figure, 
of princely bearing, of indomitable courage, of 
military genius. As we read the story and di- 
vest it of those supernatural features so dear 
to the oriental mind, we see another illustration 
of an old teaching — that a small, hardy, well- 
disciplined band is more than a match for a 
large, ill-regulated, panic-stricken host. It re- 
calls that famous fight at Marathon, when 10,- 
000 Greeks put to flight 100,000 Persians and 
134 



GIDEON'S BAND 135 



saved Europe from Oriental dominion. It re- 
minds us also of those famous campaigns of 
Caesar when the virile, well-knit, highly-organ- 
ized Roman legion subdued the swarming, disor- 
ganized warriors of Gaul. 

It would be interesting and profitable to study 
in some detail the life of this warrior- j udge of 
Israel whose marvellous victory over the Midi- 
anites gave the young nation peace for a whole 
generation; a very picturesque figure in this 
early period, and one characterized by all the 
strength and weakness of the age, brave, super- 
stitious, patriotic, cruel, crafty, revengeful, mas- 
terful. For what can be more interesting and 
profitable than the biographies of the leaders of 
men! 

But this morning let us ponder upon this 
singular test the Lord laid upon the soldiers of 
Israel. They were too numerous, we read, and 
so an opportunity was given for the timid to 
withdraw — a kind of volunteer enlistment we 
may say. And still there were too many, so 
this new and striking test of drinking water 
was prescribed. 

I infer that lapping water from the hand, 
while the warrior stood half-erect, still holding 
his arms, indicated a more rugged, a more re- 
sourceful, a more self-reliant nature. And this 



136 CONCERNING LIFE 



we might call in the speech of the day the phys- 
ical test, as the first was a moral test. Jehovah, 
the god of battles, was going to show his power 
by a chosen company. Not by numbers but by 
personal valor was this victory to be won. It 
is the hardy spirit set forth in this dramatic 
narrative we are to consider, the man who is 
not spoiled by his education, his cultivated tastes, 
the refinements of his life; the man who retains 
his virility amid affluent surroundings, who can 
endure hardship, who can turn his back upon 
pleasures when duty calls, as Marcus Aurelius 
left the luxurious capital at the call of duty to 
wage war on the banks of the distant Danube. 

This is one of those lessons writ large on the 
face of history. A nation may be highly civi- 
lized, it may stand at the very head of advanced 
peoples, and yet lose this virile quality; in that 
case it falls a prey to a more rugged if less 
civilized people. Such was the fate of Greece, 
the land of poets and artists, of orators and 
philosophers. As the hardy Greek in the time 
of Alexander conquered the effeminate Persians, 
so the rude Roman in his day of strength con- 
quered the indolent Greek. And in later cen- 
turies the luxurious Roman was himself con- 
quered by the northern barbarians. In such 
historic facts there is a great lesson. We see 



GIDEON'S BAND 137 



a premium set upon what we may call the mas- 
culine traits of character — ! personal daring, the 
power of endurance, self-restraint, self-reliance, 
simplicity, a contempt for " the soft life." We 
might say that was nature's way of perpetuat- 
ing the race — the survival of the fittest, of 
those who could best withstand the wear and 
tear of life. But we must go deeper than that. 
Behind nature is God. There is a divine pur- 
pose in this value set upon the virile qualities. 
No matter how highly cultivated a people or a 
family or an individual may be, for their preser- 
vation certain elementary traits of courage, self- 
denial, endurance, resourcefulness are needed. 
Hothouse plants do not thrive out of doors. 

This is the real argument underlying college 
athletics. The young men in our institutions 
of learning find that the lines have fallen unto 
them in pleasant places. How comfortable their 
lives are compared with the nomadic life of the 
medieval student who wandered to Padua or 
Paris or Oxford in search of learning, begging 
his bread, living in an attic, without a fire in 
winter, yet strong and happy in his poverty be- 
cause he could gather the crumbs that fell from 
Learning's table! It is not surprising that the 
college faculty, noting well the comfortable, 
often luxurious surroundings of our fortunate 



138 CONCERNING LIFE 



youth, favor the athletic sports that many ten- 
der-hearted people fear are too violent for their 
sons and brothers. So, also, it has been pointed 
out that the aristocracy of England owes its viril- 
ity to the fact that its sons can leave the ances- 
tral seats and well ordered life of merrie Eng- 
land and rough it for a time in Africa or Aus- 
tralia. 

General Kitchener returned from that tropical 
campaign in the Soudan to his proud country- 
men, received his patent of nobility, his great 
pension, his enthusiastic welcome, — and then 
went back to administer the affairs of an un- 
civilized land just brought under English rule. 
Not very long ago we threw up our hats and 
shouted ourselves hoarse over the heroic Admiral 
Dewey whose prowess in the far east has made 
us so proud of the American sailor. 

Now only Literature can compete with War- 
fare in the enthusiasm its heroes awaken. Kip- 
pling, I suppose, is at present the most conspicu- 
ous figure in the literary realm. Yet, great as 
our interest is in this virile writer, we cannot 
imagine such a popular ovation for him as 
greeted General Kitchener in England or Ad- 
miral Dewey in America. And our admiration 
is well based. It is the heroic life we praise, the 
life that rises superior to bodily comfort, re- 



GIDEON'S BAND 139 



fined surroundings, cultivated ease, and dares the 
unknown and dangerous, as Desdemona loved 
her Moor for the battles* sieges, fortunes he had 
undergone, and the distressful strokes his youth 
had suffered. 

No one despises comfort, wealth, culture, re- 
finement. No one, I trust, is so stupid. These 
are the fruits of civilization. We are indeed 
fortunate when we can gather them. But these 
are, after all, the adornment, the splendid trap- 
pings of manhood. And it is the man, always 
the man, that has our deepest interest. Is he 
simply a peg to hang fine clothes upon, or a gen- 
tleman in waiting at Fashion's court, or a libra- 
rian with a key to curious learning? Well, that 
is not enough. We demand more. We want 
first of all a strong, resolute, self-reliant man- 
hood; and then we see with pleasure, all the 
additional resources of wealth and learning and 
refinement. Manhood is the essential thing. 
That is our human judgment. And as we read 
history we believe it must be God's judgment 
also. 

It is a familiar fact that the sons and grand- 
sons of rich men have all they can do to keep 
the money they have inherited. And another 
fact equally significant is that the country-bred 
boy and the poor boy from the slums are con- 



140 CONCERNING LIFE 



tinually moving on to the fashionable streets, 
their native virility, their powers of endurance, 
their capacity for work, their indomitable will, 
winning them the commercial prizes. Business 
and politics, and even social life, are continually 
remade by " the new men," the hardy characters, 
nature's noblemen that come to the front. It 
is as if God says to modern society — " By the 
three hundred men that lapped, I will save you, 
and let all the other people every man 
go to his place." 

I have been speaking of the life of the world 
in which we all have so keen an interest, of that 
great pulsating world of success and failure, of 
hopes and fears, in which every man has to make 
his way. Let us turn now to the spiritual life, 
in which as Christian men and women we have 
so great a stake. For the same truth holds good 
here. It is the hardy spirit, inured to disci- 
pline, capable of sacrifice, resolute in duty, able 
to say to the tempting and ill-timed pleasure, 
" Get behind me, Satan ! " It is this hardy na- 
ture of the Christian warrior that God chooses 
for His work. Our life in this community is as 
fair and wholesome as it is because there are a 
certain number of men and women here who can 
be depended upon to do their duty. They are 
unspoiled by the circumstances of their lives. If 



GIDEON'S BAND 141 



they are poor they are not cynical; if they are 
rich they are not self-indulgent; if they have 
leisure they are willing to give their service to 
the community; if they are in affliction, like 
David they can put aside their mourning and 
sit in the gate for judgment. It is the old story 
of Gideon's Band, the little knot of resolute, self- 
reliant, and reliable warriors that saves our com- 
munity from the foes of misrule and want and 
ignorance. For it always is the same, familiar 
list of names we see on the boards of public in- 
stitutions, on charitable committees, on subscrip- 
tion lists, in reform movements ; men and women 
who can do disagreeable work, who have the 
courage to face frequent disappointment, who 
lay their time, their strength, their money, their 
leisure, their wisdom, on the altar of fellow serv- 
ice. We who live here and believe that it is good 
to be here know that in each generation the 
battle for civilization has been fought by a choice 
company, picked men who could be depended 
upon to do the Lord's work. 

Let us bring it still closer ; let us speak of the 
personal struggle each of us has to make to keep 
himself pure and blameless in the sight of God. 
For virility is as essential in our spiritual as in 
our physical life. With prosperity, with edu- 
cation, with refinement of taste, with wide experi- 



142 CONCERNING LIFE 



ence of life, we are always in danger of losing 
that keenness of the moral sense we have in our 
innocent youth. Conscience and culture do not 
always walk hand in hand; with refined tastes 
we are in danger of laying more stress upon 
manners than upon morals. Long ago Goethe 
wrote that " Education enlightens the mind but 
paralyses the will." The Christian of our day 
is surrounded by foes. He must fight to pos- 
sess his own soul. You remember those words 
of St. Paul — " lest that by any means when I 
have preached to others I myself should be a 
castaway." If we are to be of the chosen com- 
pany we must be in constant readiness. Drink 
while standing, holding your arms in case of 
immediate call. That is God's test now, as in 
the day when " the chosen people " were estab- 
lishing themselves in Canaan. 

A wise man, a student of social life, wrote that 
" in the present day the profession of Chris- 
tianity is attended with no peril; its practice 
even demands no sacrifice save that preference 
of duty to enjoyment which is the first law of 
cultivated humanity." We may not accept this 
as a final statement of religion. I trust not. 
But I call your attention to that phrase, " the 
preference of duty to enjoyment which is the 
first law of cultivated humanity." There is the 



GIDEON'S BAND 143 



test alike of our Christianity and our civiliza- 
tion. Can we turn from pleasure to duty? 
That stern necessity is laid upon us all. The 
education of the home or the school or business 
life is a failure unless it teaches us that the first 
consideration is duty. You are not doing your 
full duty to your children unless you train them 
to do disagreeable things when it is desirable 
that they should be done. 

A great deal has been said and written about 
" the New England conscience." I sometimes 
ask myself if we in New England are not living 
upon the past records of the New England con- 
science, as certain old families live upon the repu- 
tation of long dead ancestors. Certainly there 
is a great deal of uncultivated humanity among 
us when the reform work of the community falls 
upon so few people. I am frequently impressed 
by it when I ask some capable person to do some 
useful work for the church and am refused be- 
cause he or she does not wish " to be tied down." 
But that is precisely what life means — being 
tied down. The successful merchant is tied 
down to his business, the successful author is 
tied down to his manuscript, the successful 
teacher is tied down to his daily preparation, and 
the true Christian is tied fast to his duty. So 
many people think that their mission in life is 



144 CONCERNING LIFE 



to have " a good time." Bright, beautiful, lov- 
able creatures they often are — but yet only chil- 
dren of a larger growth. Their souls have 
never developed. We like them as we like chil- 
dren, but we cannot depend upon them, and in 
the time of trial, when poverty or sickness or 
affliction or some heavy responsibility is laid 
upon them they are unequal to the burden and 
fall away. In the spiritual as in the worldly 
life the strenuous type of character prevails. 
The easy-going, the pleasure-loving men and 
women, those incapable of self-denial, of serious 
exertion, of high duties, go every one to his 
place, — among the frivolous, among the desti- 
tut e, among the vicious. God is not mocked. 

The Kingdom of Heaven is won only by the 
tried and true of each Christian household. 
" By the three hundred that lapped will I save 
you." That is God's dealing with men ; not our 
education, not our culture, not our refinement, 
but our moral fitness. 

That was the teaching of Christ. Those 
whom he loved, whom he trusted, to whom he 
confided His work were picked men, a choice 
company, with one exception. They were as the 
light upon a hill, as the savor of salt, as the 
leaven that made the flour sweet and wholesome. 
Who is on the Lord's side? That is the ques- 



GIDEON'S BAND 145 



tion all these Christian centuries have asked. 
And for answer we turn to those loyal hearts in 
each generation that have toiled and prayed and 
hoped and fought against evil, the martyrs, the 
prophets, the reformers, the saints who prepared 
the way of the Lord both for themselves and 
for us their descendants. 



XIV 



THE BURNING BUSH 

— and behold the bush burned with fire and 
was not consumed. — Exodus hi, 2. 

It would be profitable and interesting to con- 
sider this call that transformed Moses, the chief- 
tain of a desert tribe, into the great lawgiver of 
Israel. It is as when Christ summoned Peter 
from his fishing nets and made him one of the 
founders of His church. But my thought is 
upon that Burning Bush, and in the flaming yet 
unconsumed shrub I see an image of the Divine 
that persists amid the perishable elements of 
human life. The divine and the human! How 
inextricably blended they are in this world, in 
man as well as in the noblest work of his hands ! 
This striking figure of the Burning Bush is sym- 
bolical of God's power as shown in human weak- 
ness. Why, we sometimes ask ourselves, is not 
this or that institution utterly destroyed by its 
evident weakness, its errors, its blunders, its su- 
perstitions, its scandals! And then, as we ap- 
146 



THE BURNING BUSH 147 



proach nearer, we see that the principle it rep- 
resents is noble, that its aim is inspiring, that 
good men are giving their life to its service. 
Again and again do we find our criticism dis- 
armed as we become better acquainted with men 
and the work of their hands. By the modern 
Christian just as by the Hebrew Moses, the 
angel of the Lord is recognized in the perishable 
material that can survive its own weakness. 

What a wonderful illustration our Bible of- 
fers ! Its transient elements of local history and 
fantastic legend, of early poetry and childish 
fable are all aflame with the presence of God. 
The great lesson taught is that of personal 
righteousness. The inspiration is the life of 
Christ. The noisy critic who is thinking about 
the " mistakes of Moses " cannot understand 
why the authority of this book is not shriveled 
up, utterly consumed by its errors, scientific 
and historical. But here the Bible is, after cen- 
turies of criticism from Celsus to Straus, never 
more fittingly than now called the " Word of 
God," giving light and inspiration to innumer- 
able men and women. 

In the Christian Church there is another 
great illustration of our symbolic text. No one 
can read church history, or even think of cer- 
tain aspects of the church life of to-day, with- 



148 CONCERNING LIFE 



out a sinking of the heart. Men bring into the 
Church the same human nature they have in the 
home and in their business. Often they have a 
new spirit, but it has to struggle with ingrained 
habits. How very far the Christian Church is 
from realizing its Master's ideal! How far it 
is even from satisfying our love and prayers for 
it! How often its most striking characteristics 
appear to be indifference, worldliness, intoler- 
ance, superstition, a deadening conservatism, a 
smug complacency, rather than " a union of all 
who love in the service of all who suffer! " But 
even in stating this common criticism I remem- 
ber that St. Paul made a similar comment upon 
the Church of his time : " for they all seek their 
own, not the things of Christ." Thinking of 
all the errors, the sins, the shameful failures of. 
the Church, we find it hard to understand how 
the fire of its own passions has not utterly con- 
sumed it. Yet the astounding fact is that the 
Christian Church has survived all these centu- 
ries of partial failure, and is to-day alive, vigor- 
ous, ambitious, never more intent upon good 
works; and it carries its message to-day to a 
more intelligent, a more critical, a more self-re- 
liant public than it ever before faced. The 
word of God is found in the Church, as in the 
Bible. The Church, like the Bible, insists upon 



THE BURNING BUSH 149 



personal righteousness. It upholds the life of 
Christ. With all its weakness, both in pul- 
pit and pews, it still stands in the community 
as the greatest of moral forces. It maintains 
the life of faith and fellow service. Like 
Jesus, on the great portico of the temple, the 
Church cries, " Ho, everyone that thirsteth, 
let him come and drink of the water of life 
freely ! " 

But let us turn from these illustrations 
which naturally suggest themselves to the 
preacher. Let us turn to the work of men in 
other and very different directions. Our politi- 
cal life, for instance: If anything seems of the 
earth earthy just at present it would appear to be 
government in this democratic America. How 
many severe criticisms, and many of them just 
criticisms, we pass upon our representative gov- 
ernment in city and state and nation ! What 
scandals are daily aired in the press! What in- 
competent men we often find in responsible po- 
sitions ! What economic blunders are made ! 
What wild schemes of conquest are urged ! How 
far we seem to have departed from the principles 
of the Fathers, from that famous Farewell Ad- 
dress of Washington, for instance! There are 
many among us who are alarmed at the trend of 
affairs, who feel anxious for the future of our 



150 CONCERNING LIFE 



country, who even look with some envy at the 
government of monarchical England. 

But turn to history, and we shall see that it re- 
peats itself. I think I am right in saying that 
there has never been a period in our national life 
when warning voices were not raised, when simi- 
lar issues were not involved, when equally dan- 
gerous tendencies were not seen in our social and 
political life. Political contests were as virulent 
in the time of Washington as to-day. Labor 
troubles and racial riots have been found in 
every decade of the century. Annexation is an 
old story. Corruption has always been found 
in politics. 

The best encouragement for the present hour 
is found in reading the records of the past. 
Our nation has weathered as fierce storms in the 
past, and our pilot, now as then, is God. Let 
us not forget that fact. Government, like the 
Church, is a divine institution; that is, it is the 
instinctive effort of men to secure order and 
justice. The history of our nation is the history 
of every other nation, the attempt to win peace 
and prosperity on the part of inexperienced, 
short-sighted, blundering men. And as a mat- 
ter of fact, no failure of our representative gov- 
ernment can possibly be worse than the failures 
that at one time or another have stained the 



THE BURNING BUSH 151 



older governments of Europe. I do believe that 
no intelligent man can impartially read even 
current history without coming to the conclusion 
that the government of our land is on as secure 
a basis and as likely to endure as the govern- 
ment of England or of France or of Germany. 
For there is always the same story of incom- 
petency, occasional corruption, frightful blun- 
ders ! And then, then the great fact that there 
is order, and also justice and, on the whole, 
progress. The bush is wrapped in the flames 
of civil and foreign war, of party passions, of 
private and public scandals; and yet the nation 
is not consumed. For nations survive their fail- 
ures because the heart of the people is sound; 
because the great masses of men, whether in pub- 
lic or private life, really care for justice, for 
order and peace and the general prosperity. 
And that instinctive and well nigh universal ef- 
fort after righteousness is the witness of God's 
spirit in human life. 

Let us be broad in our sympathies; let us be 
wise in our judgments. I have no right to think 
that my neighbor who votes the other ticket or 
advocates expansion or believes in party gov- 
ernment, is less honest, less intelligent, less pub- 
lic-spirited than myself. We see things dif- 
ferently ; that is all that can be said. 



152 CONCERNING LIFE 



Our nation has survived the flames of civil 
war and more than one foreign war. Let us not 
be discouraged by the failure of our people to 
reach the highest standard. The heart of the 
nation is sound, and a people like a man must 
live in order to leam. 

In fact do we not see, everywhere, this same 
struggle of good instincts in our imperfect hu- 
man nature! We believe in popular education; 
the common school system is one of our idols, 
and surely one of the noblest ideals a nation 
ever deliberately set before itself ! Yet how 
much dissatisfaction is openly expressed about 
this much vaunted school system ; it is superfi- 
cial, it tries to do too much; it breaks down the 
pupils; it is too classical, it is too scientific, it 
is too much given to " fads," it begets discon- 
tent among the many who must do manual work 
— how many and how various are the criticisms 
upon popular education! Yet in spite of many 
obvious faults it does its work, and the heart of 
the nation is sound because in the public schools 
the youth are taught order, obedience, self-re- 
liance, and are given the training that enables 
them to earn an honest livelihood. 

So, too, we might speak of the law, repre- 
senting justice and yet full of anarchronisms 
and legal quibbles and tedious delay, and loop- 



THE BURNING BUSH 153 



holes of escape for criminals. Or, we might 
turn to the splendid reforms of our day, stand- 
ing for humanity yet hindered oftentimes by 
intolerance, fanaticism, ignorance, rivalry, per- 
sonal ambition, self-seeking. Or, again, to so- 
cial life, standing as it does for high-bred 
courtesy and refined manners and delicate sym- 
pathies, and yet cursed by vanity and extrava- 
gance and self-indulgence and innumerable pet- 
tinesses. Where in fact can we not see the noble 
aim preserving the weak, perishable elements of 
our human institutions! That is the sign and 
seal of the divine in our life. It is a preserva- 
tive quality. We live in spite of our diseases, 
not because of them. 

In our individual life, as in our institutions, 
the same truth is found. We have this treasure 
in earthen vessels said St. Paul, speaking of 
the Christian life he was trying to live. I think 
of that sober confession very often as I reflect 
upon the life of men and women who try to be 
good and true under hard conditions of tem- 
perament and occupation. We are as savage 
in our criticisms upon men as upon institutions. 
We see the perishable elements in one another, 
the frailties of nature, the taint in the blood, 
the weakness of will, the yielding to temptation, 
the partial success. Often not until Death has 



154 



CONCERNING LIFE 



removed the neighbor do we recognize the true 
nobility of his spirit. It is frequently said that 
after we have lost our friend we idealize him. 
I am not certain that we should not say we 
realize him. At a greater distance we forget 
the splashes of color on the impressionist's can- 
vas. In his lifetime Washington was called by 
his envious critics the step-father of his country. 
While he lived, the gaucherie, the interminable 
stories, the caution of Lincoln were the scorn of 
the courtly Seward, the fiery Stanton, the am- 
bitious Chase, and the other great men, rivals 
whom the President had invited into his cabinet. 
Where is the distinguished man in political or 
literary or reform movements who meets all our 
expectation, who is not open to frequent criti- 
cism? Very often it is the old, old story that 
no man is a hero to his valet. We see the faults 

— oh, how easily ! We do not always see the 
greatness of spirit behind the faults. 

There is a well-known passage where Jesus 
says to the weak, impetuous, affectionate Simon 

— Thou art Peter, a rock, and upon thee I will 
build my church. Many explanations have been 
given of this distinction conferred upon the dis- 
ciple who afterwards betrayed his Lord. But 
why should we not see in it the truth, — a truth 
all these Christian centuries have emphasized — 



THE BURNING BUSH 155 



that the Church of Christ is indeed built upon 
a very weak, imperfect human nature, praying 
to do right and yet constantly wandering in 
error. 

" All I could never be, 
All men ignored in me, 
This I was worth to God — " 

That is the appeal every man must make as 
he contrasts his unfulfilled life with his longing 
for Christian discipleship. And he is justified 
in turning from the partial knowledge of men 
to the all-seeing eye of God. An institution 
lives because of its good, not its bad character- 
istics. And you and I, in all our weakness and 
failure, can still call ourselves Christians, be- 
cause at heart we want to follow Christ and live 
in His spirit. 



XV 



THREE NECESSARY THINGS 

We are saved by hope. — Romans viii, 24. 

An old and still prevalent teaching of psy- 
chology considers our personality under the 
three aspects of thought, feeling and will. It is 
not the final statement for the human spirit is 
one and indivisible, but for the study of our 
mental life such an analysis is highly useful. 
In fact that is our favorite method of charac- 
terizing our acquaintances: he is a man of ac- 
tion, we say, or a man of reflection. We say 
this, knowing well that the man of affairs both 
thinks and feels an enjoyment in his work. Gen- 
eral Grant was a thinker as well as a warrior; 
he fought battles as a man plays chess. Rous- 
seau was a sentimentalist, he dreamed of an ideal 
humanity living in Arcadia; yet his books, 
"The Social Contract" and "The New 
Heloise," contained such cogent reasoning that 
they revolutionized the political and social life of 
France. 

156 



THREE NECESSARY THINGS 157 



It remains true, however, that the conspicuous 
trait of the American soldier was action, and 
that of the French writer sentiment. In great 
men this is particularly the case. We are im- 
pressed by some marked feature, some striking 
characteristic, some one field in which their in- 
fluence is felt. They are men of action, or they 
are thinkers or they are men of sentiment. But 
in our own lives we are conscious of all three 
forms of spiritual activity: we feel, we think, 
we will. Our health and our happiness depend 
upon the free and successful interplay of these 
three elements of our nature. Health, the 
physician tells us, depends upon functional ac- 
tivity; the brain, the heart, the lungs, the stom- 
ach must discharge their functions regularly and 
easily, or the system is thrown out of order. 
And happiness, all moralists tell us, depends 
upon our sympathetic interest in the life that 
surrounds us. 

There are for us therefore three necessary 
things, necessary alike for our health and our 
happiness. Everyone should have something to 
do, someone to love and something to hope for. 
These correspond to the three forms of our 
spiritual life, will, feeling and thought. 

Action, the expression of the will, we may 
say, comes first. Everyone should have some- 



158 CONCERNING LIFE 



thing to do. We are in the world of men, and 
we have a part to play. Schopenhauer made 
the will the fundamental element of our nature. 
Life means impulse, self-assertion, activity. It 
is desire striving to express itself in outward 
action. 

A great part of our activity is inevitably 
given to our own wants; the daily provision for 
our lives, the care of those dependent upon us, 
the gratification of legitimate ambitions. And 
all honest work has a value, not only for our- 
selves, but also for the community. The mer- 
chant makes his fortune by supplying the needs 
of others. The author wins reputation by giv- 
ing us information or entertainment. It is as 
the Apostle said, " No man liveth unto himself 
alone." The community prospers through 
work and loses through idleness. The unem- 
ployed men at the street corners and the unem- 
ployed men in the clubhouse alike are, in Bibli- 
cal phrase, " unprofitable servants." Work is 
a stimulus. It saves a man from morbid feel- 
ings, it keeps him out of mischief, it adds to the 
wealth of the city and state. It means gain for 
the individual, and progress for the community. 
That is the judgment of the wise men. " A 
man's task is his life-preserver," said Emerson. 
With like insight Carlyle wrote : " An endless 



THREE NECESSARY THINGS 159 



significance lies in work; in idleness alone there 
is perpetual despair." One more experience let 
me submit, the confession of that highly culti- 
vated man and accomplished critic, Sainte 
Beuve : " Work is my sore burden, but it is 
also my great resource. I eat my heart out 
when I am not up to my neck in work; there 
you have the secret of the life I lead." 

It is true, I fear, that, like the French critic, 
many find work " a sore burden." It ought 
not to be so. There should be a manly satisfac- 
tion in earning one's living; there should be a 
sober joy in providing for those who are near 
and dear to us; there should even be a feeling 
of triumph that our honest, faithful labor adds 
to the prosperity of the place in which we live. 
And when a man is well and doing the thing 
he can best do, this is the case. How many a 
rich man continues in business because he can- 
not endure idleness! How many a man of lei- 
sure interests himself in authorship, in historical 
investigation, or in political affairs, in philan- 
thropy ! 

The important thing is that a man should do 
something, that he should not be an idler in 
this work-a-day world. If you are fortunate in 
possessing leisure and a competency, you have 
then the privilege of giving your services to 



160 CONCERNING LIFE 



the reform and charitable work every community 
needs. Find your place and do your work, we 
say. Do not restrict your activity to the bread 
and butter interest. Take hold of something 
that needs attention, the poor family you know, 
municipal politics, the club, the church, and see 
what you can do to improve them. 

One of the things we easily forget is that it 
is personal influence that counts. Grumbling 
does not pay. General advice profits little. 
The change comes when you give your time and 
strength to some particular task. We can put 
our vitality, our originality, our artistic sense 
also into some very practical work, even as the 
author creates a character in fiction. We can 
identify ourselves with the work; it becomes our 
monument; it is, as it were, the child of our 
spirit. In our stronger hours we rejoice that 
God has not set us in an earthly Paradise with 
no occupation but naming the animals and eat- 
ing the fruits. Even Milton's sonorous verse 
does not make the life of Adam in Paradise 
interesting. There is nothing for him to do, 
and we suspect that the hours must have passed 
slowly. It is when we are tired and discouraged 
we think of Heaven as a place of rest. 

The people who have nothing to do have our 
sympathy. Their minds prey upon themselves, 



THREE NECESSARY THINGS 161 



they are restless, hypercritical, morbid, bored. 
Their lives lack purpose and direction. They 
cannot get away from themselves, they are teth- 
ered in a small field, they have no large interests, 
they are " eating out their hearts." The happy 
people are those who are at work, earning their 
living, bringing up their children, interested in 
their neighbors, laboring to make others wiser, 
better, happier. 

Work we may safely say is the first essential 
of the healthy and happy life. Then comes 
that intense craving for sympathy, that passion- 
ate desire for affection that makes so many 
childless people turn to dumb animals. Work 
is first, but its finer effect is seen in the loving 
life. Work for others, yes; but have a kindly 
feeling for them. Our wise man Emerson said 
" If you want a friend, you must be a friend." 
Some one to love and care for! That is the 
constant cry of the heart. The married find it 
in each other, the parents in the children, the 
philanthropist in the poor, the saint in the sin- 
ners. Work that is carried on in a tender, sym- 
pathetic fashion is the most effectual. The 
children are guided by the mother's love more 
than by her wisdom. Your poor friend is more 
influenced by your sympathy than by your ad- 
vice. The minister can not do his work well 



162 CONCERNING LIFE 



without an affectionate confidence between him- 
self and his people. The best argument for 
long pastorates is that with the years this wise 
trust and mutual consideration are strengthened. 

It is frequently said that in time we lose our 
interest in most persons and in most things. 
Our emotions are blunted by reviving them 
often We tire of music, of books, of pictures, 
of favorite occupations, of our friends at times. 
It is, I suppose, a common experience. We 
all know that lassitude of spirit that comes over 
us when we observe forms that no longer seem 
to have a meaning. Goethe, however, said that 
was because the soul had grown larger. It is 
a noble conception of life. Our sentiment, like 
our thought, matures. We expect more from 
life. We feel that we can give more, and we 
ask for more. But our friends also have grown, 
our work has grown, music and art and books 
have their richer meanings. It is for us to yield 
ourselves, to make the larger demands, to offer 
more and to receive more. The ideal life is that 
lived in the interests and happiness of others. 
Married life, the perfect union of two con- 
genial natures, is the perennial tyipe of it. The 
silver wedding means more than the first youth- 
ful union. And what abundant precious ex- 
periences of joy and sorrow, of struggle and 



THREE NECESSARY THINGS 163 



weakness and triumph are summed up in the 
rare golden wedding! To keep our affectionate 
interest in others, we must grow into their lives. 
When we are away from home, what we ask in 
the weekly letters is all the little details of the 
home life, the occupations, the interests, the 
trials and pleasures, the book they are reading, 
the friends they know, the new furniture, even 
the new clothing. Thus we are kept informed 
of the household events from week to week, and 
thus the life of the absent ones is vividly with 
us and we are one with them, as in Wordsworth's 
charming poem, " We are Seven." Even so 
we can grow into the lives of friends and neigh- 
bors, planning for them, sharing their experi- 
ences of joy and sorrow, ever getting deeper into 
their lives. They are growing as well as our- 
selves. Their experiences are richer, they can 
offer us more, and thus life can meet our in- 
creasing demands upon it. 

There is an old tale of the lover who knocked 
at his lady's door and to her query answered 
" It is I." But the door was not opened and 
he went away disconsolate. He came again, 
wiser and purer, and this time replied, " It is 
yourself," when the door was opened and the 
new life of perfect love began. Emerson was 
right. " If you want a friend, you must be 



164 CONCERNING LIFE 



a friend." It is the worldly-wise apperception 
of that saying of the Beloved Disciple — " We 
love Him because He first loved us." 

One thing more remains to be said. In each 
life there must be something to hope for. We 
want to face the future in confidence, confidence 
in the permanent value of life. Of all men 
the pessimist is the least happy. He has lost 
hope for himself, hope for his friends, hope for 
his country, hope for the future. The pes- 
simist is the spiritually dyspeptic. He can no 
langer enjoy the bounteous repast Nature 
spreads for his daily fare. He is not a happy 
man, and therefore his influence is not good. 
Hope is the leaven of life. It lightens the bur- 
dens and sorrows that inevitably come to us all. 

As a clergyman I cannot help believing that 
religion, far more than health or prosperity, 
assures us of this confidence in the permanent 
value of life. It gives us the certainty that this 
is God's world, that it is ordered by His laws, 
that we are set here to labor with Him in up- 
building truth and righteousness, and that our 
faithful efforts here shall be rewarded by larger 
duties and added joys hereafter. Thus it hap- 
pens that some of the happiest people we know 
are poor in this world's goods, or tortured by 
chronic disease, or afflicted by family bereave- 



THREE NECESSARY THINGS 165 



merits. So common is this observation that we 
often think of religion as a solace for the sor- 
rowful, as something we turn to when we are 
disappointed in our ambitions or affections. 
But religion is the priceless possession of the 
human heart, in its joy as in its grief. The 
religious spirit is the hopeful spirit. All the 
blessings of this life, health, prosperity, ability, 
friendship, are only the more precious to the 
men and women who have this quiet confidence in 
a Divine guidance. 

For the fact is that our thought, like feel- 
ing, like the will, is always active, always seek- 
ing the new, always looking deeper into life. 
Whence do we come? Why are we here? 
What is our destiny? These are the deepest 
questions of the spirit. They demand an an- 
swer. And that answer, the only one that per- 
manently satisfies, is that our lives are the ex- 
pression of God's will, that even unknown to 
ourselves we are aiding His work. And when 
our life has this religious basis, when we realize 
it and rest in it, then we can bear our burdens, 
and be brave under our losses, knowing that we 
are in His hands, and that no evil can touch the 
souls of those who seek to do His will. That is 
the inspiring lesson of Christ's life. He was 
" tempted in all points as we are," we read. 



16^ CONCERNING LIFE 



And yet we know that on Calvary as among His 
friends in Bethany He was confident of the Di- 
vine Protection. It is the sacred task of the 
Church to make this Christian hope vital in our 
lives. In the Church we seem nearer God be- 
cause our thoughts are turned to Him, and the 
great words of Christ are in our ears. We have 
hope in this life and hope in the life to come. 



XVI 



" FRIEDE, FREUDE, FREIHEIT " 

Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say 
Rejoice. — Phil, iv, 4. 

In some recent reading I came across a motto 
which Froebel, the founder of the kindergarten 
system, had written upon the walls of his school- 
room, Friede, Freude, Freiheit, Peace, Joy, 
Freedom! Could anything better express the 
ideal of the teacher of young children! What 
inspiring words to meet her eyes every time she 
turns from the sensitive, impressionable, chal- 
lenging faces of the little people before her! 
What she has to do is to take these young minds 
" wax to receive, marble to retain," and give 
them the right direction at the beginning of 
the long, difficult and perplexing journey of life. 
It was characteristic of the great educator who 
revolutionized the teaching of children that he 
saw the value of individuality as well as the 
importance of happiness in the schoolroom. 

This glorious motto might well find a place 
167 



168 



CONCERNING LIFE 



in every home and seat of learning, a noble in- 
spiration for parent and teacher, a splendid 
challenge, a potent union of three of the im- 
mortal principles for the safe guidance of life. 

If we ask ourselves the question, What is the 
purpose of education, what is the reason the 
parents often make so great a sacrifice, why does 
the state burden itself with such a heavy tax in 
order to educate the child, we receive two an- 
swers, each true and both complementary. The 
first answer is that of the parent — to develop 
the latent mental powers of the young child. 
The second answer is that of the state — to fur- 
nish the community with intelligent citizens, 
since only from such an electorate is democratic 
government possible. The ideal state requires 
ideal citizens. " The Golden Age," wrote Her- 
bert Spencer, " cannot be made out of a leaden 
people." 

Omitting this political aspect of education, 
let us this morning take up Froebel's invigorat- 
ing phrase, Peace, Joy, Freedom, as an aim in 
the child's education and also as a principle 
throughout all our life. 

In the largest sense education means develop- 
ment. This was well stated by James Freeman 
Clarke in his book, Self-Culture. " But educa- 
tion in the true sense is not mere instruction in 



" ERIEDE, EREUDE, FREIHEIT " 169 



Latin, French, English or history. It is the 
unfolding of the whole human nature. It is 
growing up in all things to our highest possi- 
bility." 

Now when we set before ourselves this com- 
prehensive scheme of education, we perceive the 
insight of the famous German. To attain this 
full development, he says, you must live peace- 
ably with others, and in the kindergarten we 
shall begin to learn this great truth. Then, in 
order to get the most out of life, to do the best 
work, useful, original, satisfying work, you 
must find happiness in doing it. In the kinder- 
garten let us make our work a play; let us see 
how much fun there can be in using our minds 
and fingers, in embroidering mottoes, in model- 
ing birds' nests out of clay, in learning the colors 
and forms of these little balls and squares and 
cubes. 

Still, there is something more necessary, to 
gain this complete, harmonious development of 
our human nature, and that is our freedom, or 
our individuality. At the very beginning, in 
the kindergarten, this precious trait of individ- 
uality must be cultivated. Be natural — that is 
what freedom means in this case. Certainly not 
permission to run away, to the home, on the 
street. Certainly it is not an indifference on 



170 



CONCERNING LIFE 



the part of the teacher whether the child studies 
or plays, is attentive or troublesome. The kin- 
dergarten, like the big world outside, has its 
laws to be obeyed, if there is to be a kinder- 
garten. Freedom means naturalness on the part 
of the child, and all possible regard for the 
child's individuality on the part of the teacher. 

Thus in Froebel's penetrating thought each 
teacher had a threefold message to the depend- 
ent, responsive, growing child — Don't quarrel, 
Be happy, Be yourself. Glorious precepts in- 
deed at the beginning of life! Glorious prin- 
ciples throughout all life, if they can be main- 
tained, and we are led to ask if we cannot live 
with Peace, Joy and Freedom ever in our 
thought. 

In applying these principles to adult life, as 
I wish to do, I think Freedom comes first. We 
need not spend much time in denning it. It does 
not mean lawlessness, irresponsibility, caprice, 
complete disregard of others' rights. Such 
a career is very apt to lead to the insane asylum 
or to the jail. We are born into social relations, 
as the family, the community, the state, all of 
which make certain just demands upon us which 
must be met. Freedom, we may say, means in 
the outside world what it means in the kinder- 
garten, naturalness, the development of one's 



" FRXEDE, FREUDE, FREXHEIT " 171 



individuality. And the best way of attaining 
this freedom, for paradoxical as it seems free- 
dom has to be won, is to acquire good hab- 
its. In Prof. William James' psychology he 
has much to say about making habit our 
friend. 

The little daily duties of life should be matters 
of habit. We don't want to consider every 
morning whether we shall bathe, go through our 
exercises, change our linen, or whether we shall 
market and answer letters. Every housekeeper, 
every business man, knows the mental relief and 
satisfaction that come from not having to de- 
cide certain matters. They have been decided 
long since, they are done as a part of the daily 
routine, and the obvious advantage is that thus 
the mind is free for other interests. Prof. James 
advises us to bring as much of our life as possi- 
ble under routine; the satisfaction of the wants 
of the body and the necessary occupation of the 
hands may very largely be so treated. Thus 
there will be more leisure, more vitality and 
more interest for our spiritual development. 
Somewhat as Benedict Spinoza thought out one 
of the world systems of philosophy while he 
was grinding lenses for an optician in Amster- 
dam; or as Elihu Burritt mastered several an- 
cient and modern languages while working at 



172 CONCERNING LIFE 



the blacksmith's forge in New Britain, Connect- 
icut. 

The freedom for which we work is that of 
the inner life, our spiritual growth, the develop- 
ment of our individuality. That is all that is 
possible for us; but it is enough. Good habits 
are the best aid I can have; good habits for the 
body as regards diet, exercise, sleep, cleanliness, 
regular work; and good habits for the mind as 
regards order, system, purpose, clear standards 
of judgment, in a word the traits that make 
a good business man. With these aids I can 
be free to think of my intellectual and moral life. 
I can read, think, converse, practice. I can 
make of this I a being cultivated, high-princi- 
pled, attractive, enriched by the fruits of cul- 
ture, serviceable unto others, a free, rational, 
noble child of God. 

The ideal of the kindergarten is one for all 
life. That is the reason Froebel wished it writ- 
ten in golden letters on the walls of the school- 
room. Freedom, one of the splendid rallying 
cries of men, one of the glorious visions of the 
spirit, an immortal longing, for this freedom 
of the spirit the teacher is to train the child; 
and the man is to guard it as his inalienable 
right. 

This liberty of the inner life has two aids, 



" FRIEDE, FREUDE, FREIHEIT " 173 



two safeguards, two attendant satisfactions as 
we may call them: in Froebel's phrase, Peace 
and Joy. In that German kindergarten, I im- 
agine Friede was translated " Don't quarrel." 
That may be said to a great many adults. " In 
as far as lieth in you live peaceably with all 
men," said St. Paul. Well, it doesn't always 
lie in my power — that is true. The boys ring 
my door-bell, my neighbor builds a spite fence, 
the cook goes out on a strike, the plumber over- 
charges. I may find myself obliged to submit 
to imposition or to enter into controvers}^, per- 
haps litigation ■ — • an equally unpleasant di- 
lemma. But that is, after all, only now and 
then. In most relations, with most people, there 
is nothing easier than to live peaceably. In all 
cases I can be polite, in most instances sympa- 
thetic. I can take the neighborhood gossip as 
I take the sensational reports of the morning 
paper — with many grains of scepticism. I 
can give people credit for meaning to do right. 
I can learn to take a joke. I can use discretion 
in my own jesting. I can be considerate, 
friendly, appreciative. I can treat others as I 
wish them to treat me. 

It is probably sufficient to tell children not to 
quarrel. Men and women soon learn that it is 
quite as important to be at peace with oneself. 



174 CONCERNING LIFE 



That is more difficult. After a time we give 
up some of the fierce ambitions of our youth; 
some we see were always impossible, some un- 
worthy, some no longer interest us. In time 
we discover our place, as travellers on the train, 
and we make ourselves comfortable for the life 
journey, be it long or short. We learn that 
life requires a certain amount of philosophy. 
" There are things within my power and things 
beyond my power," said Epictetus. " The things 
I can direct, I will regulate as a wise man. The 
inevitable I will accept as a philosopher." What 
wise words these are! It is worry, not work, 
that causes the breakdown. But the future is 
uncertain, you say; very well, let us not be un- 
duly anxious. It may bring good fortune, well, 
I am ready to profit by it. It may bring ill; 
well, sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. 
To be at peace with oneself means that we rec- 
ognize our own limitations of health, strength, 
ability, money, leisure; that we can make the 
journey in an ordinary car, and also bid a 
hearty Godspeed to those who travel in a Pull- 
man. It means that we are getting the most 
out of each day, that we refuse to be depressed 
by the uncertain skies of to-morrow; it means 
that in straightforward, manly, contented, 
wholesome fashion we are living as nobly as we 



" FRIEDE, FREUDE, FREIHEIT " 175 



can from day to day. And that, as we all 
know, is the very best preparation we can make 
for this world or for the future world. 

" Lord, thou hast made each step an onward 
one; 

And we will ever trust each unknown morrow." 

The other aid> safeguard, satisfaction is Joy. 
It is very easy to say to the little five-year-olds, 
Now let us play we are birds making a nest 
for the little eggs, let us surprise mamma with 
the pretty picture we are going to make with 
these red and blue and yellow colored threads. 
It is fun, great fun, for the children. But is 
it fun for the teacher? Yes, if she is in the 
right place. There is a solid satisfaction in 
seeing what you really care about grow. Froe- 
bel looked ahead. The best work is done under 
joyous conditions. There is, to be sure, often 
the weariness of long hours, some momentary 
perplexity, at times there may be depression 
over the inadequate results. But it is true, 
nevertheless, that the people who are doing the 
thing they want to do, who are well, who can 
see some progress, do the best work. It always 
seems such a pity for a collegian to get to the 
senior year without knowing what his life work 
is to be! Happy the boy whose bent is unmis- 



176 CONCERNING LIFE 



takable, who has always moved steadily towards 
the law or medicine or chemistry or engineer- 
ing! He is far more likely to succeed and he 
will certainly be happier. The joy of life 
comes, first and largely, from work in which 
one feels at home, contentedly, even joyously 
interested. That affects the quality of the 
work, and quality is more important than quan- 
tity. Do the thing you want to do, I always 
say to young men, on the rare occasions when 
my advice as to the choice of a profession is 
asked. 

Then comes that quiet enjoyment in the little 
incidents, the daily relations, the home ties, the 
friendly circle and social duties, it is so easy to 
cultivate, if we do not already possess it. In 
the kindergarten it is little things, simple pleas- 
ures that charm the child. May we not learn 
a lesson from it? When we are well, there is 
not a day that does not bring us some pleasure 
— the sunshine, a snow-storm, the first blossom, 
a letter from a friend, the affectionate greeting. 
Even the sick room has its sunshine when flowers 
or a book or a friend lighten its gloom. It is 
only necessary to cultivate helpfulness; to be 
alert in spirit, to make the most of the daily 
blessings. Shall we not say of life what Emer- 
son said of the traveller in Europe — he finds 



"FRIEBE, FREUDE, FREIHEIT " 177 



what he carries there? I often wonder if any- 
thing pays like optimism. These cheerful, 
happy-go-lucky people who seem to take as lit- 
tle thought for the morrow as the birds of the 
air, often get as much out of life as the anxious- 
minded. We do not estimate the value of Eu- 
rope by the number of trunks the traveller 
brings home. Europe means an enrichment of 
the mind. It is an intellectual quickening, a 
post-graduate course of study. The worth of 
life is to be gauged in terms of the spirit. En- 
joyment, like culture, like experience, like friend- 
ship, is a spiritual gain. If with the passing 
years it seems harder to be cheerful, sometimes 
it is, the fault is most often in ourselves. Cer- 
tainly the man has more resources than the child. 
It is primarily a matter of dwelling upon the 
pleasant, not the unpleasant facts of life. When 
we are outdoors we can look at the dirty streets 
or at the sunny sky. In our mental and moral 
life we have this power of selection. Peace and 
Joy, like Freedom, pertain to the inner life. 
We do not have to be rich in order to be happy, 
as we see every day; or intellectual, as we see 
in thousands of instances; or even well, as now 
and then we remark. Joy is a spiritual trait 
which may rise above the changing fortunes of 
the outer man. 



178 CONCERNING LIFE 



" Daily the bending skies solicit man, 
The seasons chariot him from this exile, 
The rainbow hours bedeck his glowing chair, 
The storm-winds urge the heavy weeks along, 
Suns haste to set, that so remoter lights 
Beckon the wanderer to his vaster home." 

Freedom, Peace, Joy — these are a part of 
our spiritual faith in the goodness of life. De- 
spite the ugly facts, despite our own failure 
to attain the best, despite the doubts that lower 
above our heads, we do believe in the sunshine, 
in our own possible improvement, in life as di- 
rected by the wise and beneficent laws of God. 
Our faith in God, in the goodness of human 
nature, in the progress of the race, all this is 
the foundation upon which we build; so that in 
this confidence we can say with the Apostle, 
"Rejoice in the Lord alway; and again I say 
Rej oice." 



XVII 



CHRISTIAN COURTESY 

Be kindly affectioned one to another with 
brotherly love; in honor 'preferring one another, 
— Romans xii, 10. 

St. Paul is talking to grown people, but what 
he asks us to do is so hard that we cannot expect 
to succeed unless we begin while we are very 
young. " Be kindly affectioned one to an- 
other with brotherly love," he says, and means 
that we should try to like other people, for when 
we like anyone we want to make them happy. 
But he goes even farther than this and adds, 
" in honor preferring one another." He means 
that we should not only try to make other peo- 
ple happy, but that we should be willing to 
deny ourselves in order to make them happy. 
That, you see, is not an easy thing to do. And 
because we grown people don't succeed very well, 
I want you, while you are young, to begin to 
think how you can give pleasure to the boys 
and girls you know. 

179 



180 CONCERNING LIFE 



St. Paul is talking about Christian courtesy, 
and in this sermon I am preaching to you, I 
want to speak first about Courtesy, and then 
about that kind of Courtesy we may call Chris- 
tian. 

The word courtesy comes from the word 
court, and means civility, politeness, good man- 
ners; such manners as you would expect people 
to have who live at court in the palace of the 
King of England or the Emperor of Germany. 
In an old country like England great impor- 
tance is attached to birth. If a man is born in a 
good family they call him a gentleman; for 
they think that if his father and his grand- 
father and his great-grandfather had been care- 
fully trained at home and school and in public 
life, then he himself will have a fine sense of 
honor and polished manners. 

" Courtesy was born, and had her name in 
princely halls," says an old poet. You know, 
perhaps, that your pretty clothes are copied 
from the fashions set by people who live at 
court, that is in that circle of people who visit 
a king or queen on familiar terms. In the same 
way your mothers try to teach you the manners 
that are courtly, the manners that gentlemen 
.and ladies practice. For all our duties towards 
others should be performed in a beautiful and 



CHRISTIAN COURTESY 181 



pleasing manner. Some people seem to think 
that if they do their duty, that is all that is 
necessary, even if they are rude and hurt an- 
other's feelings. That is the way your little 
dog often acts when you call him and he jumps 
upon you with his muddy paws. Now it is al- 
most as important to have good manners as to 
do right. A very wise man, a member of the 
court of England, once wrote some letters to 
his son whom he wanted to become a successful 
man as well as a gentleman, and said to him — 
It is better to say no pleasantly than yes rudely. 
The older you are and the more you become ac- 
quainted with those we call gentlemen and la- 
dies, the more clearly you will perceive how much 
importance is attached to fine manners. Let me 
tell you one or two little stories to make my 
meaning clearer. 

A great many years ago the English people 
were fighting their neighbors and rivals, the 
French. The son of the King of England, the 
Black Prince as he was called, conquered in a 
famous fight and made the French King his 
prisoner. Perhaps you might think he treated 
his captive cruelly, shut him up in prison, put 
chains upon his wrists, and taunted him with 
defeat. No, he did nothing of the kind. When 
his royal prisoner was brought to his tent, the 



182 CONCERNING LIFE 



young conqueror did not forget that his captive 
was a King. He gave him a seat at his own 
table and even waited upon him, standing be- 
hind his chair and handing him plates filled with 
the choicest morsels. That is one of the most 
beautiful instances of courtesy that have come 
down to us from an age when men thought that 
because they were nobly born and held high 
positions of trust their manners should be ex- 
quisitely polite. Their motto was noblesse 
oblige, two French words meaning that because 
they were of noble birth they were obliged to be 
generous and courteous to the weak. 

Here is another story about a French soldier 
in that same age of courtesy. He also was a 
famous fighter and once after he had been 
wounded in a battle was carried to the house of 
a wealthy woman whose husband had fallen in 
the war. When he was brought into her home, 
the lady fell upon her knees and said that by 
the right of war all her possessions belonged 
to him, and that she would gladly give every 
thing to him if he would spare the life and honor 
of herself and daughters. Then the victorious 
soldier told her that as long as he lived no harm 
should be done her or her daughters. When he 
had recovered, the grateful lady brought him a 
purse with twenty-five hundred dollars in it, a 



CHRISTIAN COURTESY 183 



great sum of money for those days, and begged 
him to accept it. What do you think he did? 
He was a poor man although a great general, 
and many men would have thought it all right 
to accept this willing gift. But this noble man 
called the lady's two daughters to him, and gave 
each of them a thousand dollars and then asked 
the lady herself to distribute the remaining five 
hundred dollars among poor women who had lost 
all they had in the misery that war always brings 
to many people. Is not that a beautiful story? 
Do you wonder that a soldier who could do such 
a fine thing was loved and reverenced by his 
countrymen? That was the Chevalier Bayard, 
and the French say of him that he was " with- 
out fear and without reproach." 

Now let me tell you one more story, and this 
time about an American gentleman and soldier, 
for it is not necessary to live in Europe and 
know kings and queens in order to be courteous. 
It is a story of George Washington which you 
may not have heard, although I hope all boys 
and girls know all the splendid things about 
this great man we love and reverence. After he 
had become President, he was once walking with 
a friend when they met a colored man who very 
naturally took off his hat to the President, who 
immediately and very politely returned the bow. 



184 CONCERNING LIFE 



" What," said his friend, " do you return the 
bow of a slave?" "Certainly," said Wash- 
ington, " I would not be less polite than a poor 
negro." Don't you think we might say First 
in war, first in peace, and first in politeness also 
of our great President? 

These are all beautiful stories of men the 
English, the French, the American people love 
to honor. But you must not think that this 
rare courtesy is acquired after people are grown 
up and have their habits formed. They had to 
learn to be polite and thoughtful and tender- 
hearted when they were boys, going to school, 
interested in their games, and playing with other 
boys who were poor and sometimes dull com- 
panions. I want you to remember this, boys 
and girls, and in school or at play try to be 
kind and polite to all your companions. I am 
not going to remind you of any of the unpleas- 
ant things I sometimes see or hear about boys 
and girls in their play; of the way in which 
boys sometimes tease a little fellow, or girls are 
not nice to another little girl who does not wear 
as fine clothes or live in a large house. I should 
not like to think any of our boys and girls could 
do anything so mean, so cowardly, so unworthy 
of the good homes and watchful parents they 
have. But boys, and sometimes girls also, can 



CHRISTIAN COURTESY 185 



be very cruel as well as rude, and without really 
meaning it, hurt a playmate's feelings. I want 
to believe that because you have such pleasant 
homes and affectionate parents and so much 
done for you, that you would scorn to do any- 
thing mean, that because you are strong and 
well and happy, you are very careful not to hurt 
anyone's feelings. Remember that motto of 
those great and good men of whom I have just 
told you — noblesse oblige. Perhaps if your 
mothers would write it on a card and put it in 
your bedroom where you could see it each morn- 
ing while you were dressing, it would help you 
remember that if you have a noble spirit you 
are obliged to be courteous and kind-hearted. 

I have been talking to you about courtesy, 
and I hope I have made clear to you just what 
it means and how much people admire it. Now 
I want to say a few words about the kind of 
courtesy we may call Christian. Polite people 
are not always good Christians. Then they are 
polite because they are thinking of themselves, 
and not of others; they think that they must 
have fine manners just as they wear fine clothes 
and live in a fine house; and are not really try- 
ing to give other people pleasure. These great 
men of whom I have told these beautiful stories 
were good Christians as well as gallant soldiers. 



186 CONCERNING LIFE 



They were not only polite because they thought 
politeness was required of them, but they really 
wished to make other people happy. They 
were all of them men who went to church and 
heard the minister tell them about Jesus and 
how He spent His life in trying to make other 
people well and happy. For all of us who go 
to church and hear the Bible read, and learn 
what Jesus did when He was alive, and try to 
find out what He would do if He were living 
now, think of Him as a King, and ourselves 
as members of His court. You remember that I 
said a court meant a circle of people living on 
familiar terms with a king. And that is what 
all Christian people believe — that Jesus is our 
invisible King with whom we talk when we read 
the New Testament. So you see, all of us must 
be courteous, we must have the manners of the 
King. And Jesus expects His soldiers to be 
kind-hearted as well as polite; He wants us to 
try to make others happy even if we give up 
something we like very much in order to do so. 
That is what He did Himself. There is one 
short line in which St. Peter sums up the life 
of Jesus, and I wish we could always keep it in 
our mind, " He went about doing good." Is 
net that a beautiful thing to be said of any- 
body? And that is just the reason we call Jesus 



CHRISTIAN COURTESY 187 



King and want to live in His court; because we 
know that He was always thinking how He could 
help others. 

I think I ought to tell you, however, that we 
cannot always expect to enjoy ourselves, if we 
really want to make others happy. When the 
Black Prince, and the Chevalier Bayard and 
George Washington went to war to fight for 
their country they had to give up many pleas- 
ant things they enjoyed doing in their own 
homes. They said good-l^e to their fine clothes 
and comfortable beds and pleasant visits at their 
friends' houses, and they made up their minds 
to sleep in tents, and eat only when they could 
find food, and run the risk of being wounded 
or even killed. If you and I really want to serve 
our King we must make up our minds to do 
some things that are not easy or pleasant for 
boys and girls who like to play. You remem- 
ber our text says — " in honor preferring one 
another." In honor; that is the way to speak 
to soldiers and gentlemen, they feel that a great 
deal is expected of them. And " preferring one 
another 99 : that is the way Jesus taught us to 
treat our friends and neighbors. 

Let me tell you one or two little stories to 
make this plainer. Once there were two broth- 
ers who lived on two farms close beside each 



188 CONCERNING LIFE 



other. One of them had no children and the 
other had a large family. The first one said 
to himself one day during the harvest season, 
" My brother has a large family, it must be dif- 
ficult for him to support them, so I will take 
some of my sheaves of wheat and after dark put 
them in his field, and say nothing about it." 
Just about that time the other brother was say- 
ing to himself, " My brother has no children to 
make his home cheerful, he must be lonely; to- 
night I will take some of my sheaves of wheat 
and set them in his field and say nothing about 
it." You can imagine how astonished and per- 
plexed these two good men were to find each 
morning as many sheaves of wheat in their 
fields as there were before they had carried out 
their generous intention. But one night, they 
happened to meet, each carrying an armful of 
sheaves to his brother's field. Wasn't that a 
noble thing to do! How much more they must 
have loved each other when they learned that 
their affection meant more than kind words; that 
it meant each preferred the other and was will- 
ing to sacrifice his time and wheat to show his 
love ! And they did it in such a beautiful, quiet 
manner ! That is the way we should try to help 
others, not with a great deal of talk about how 
much we are going to do ; but just as privately 



CHRISTIAN COURTESY 189 



as we can do it. That is what Jesus meant 
when He told us not to let our left hand know 
what the right hand was doing. 

Here is another story Dr. Hale tells. Two 
boys who belonged to one of his Lend a Hand 
clubs, two poor boys that had to get up early 
and do their chores before walking some dis- 
tance to their work, promised they would stop on 
the way downtown each morning and carry two 
pails of water up several floors of a tenement 
house to a poor woman who was not strong 
enough to do it for herself. I think that is one 
of the best stories of Christian courtesy I know. 
Those boys lived at court ; they were soldiers of 
the great King. 

Now I want you to think if there is not some 
kind act you can do for others. Perhaps it's 
helping your mother in her many home duties, 
perhaps you can do some errands for a neigh- 
bor who has no boys or girls, perhaps you can 
lend your skates or your sled or your bicycle to 
some boy or girl you know who has none. I 
think one of the nicest things about our Sunday 
School is the little sewing class that meets from 
time to time and makes warm clothing for some 
of the poor children who need it so badly. I 
always think of these little maidens as King's 
Daughters. I see they have the courtesy and 



190 CONCERNING LIFE 



kindness we expect in those who live at court. 
And I know they are not always thinking of 
playing, but like all the friends of Jesus they 
are willing to deny themselves in order that 
others may be made happy. 

There are many more things I could say upon 
this subject of Christian courtesy; but I hope I 
have said enough to let you see how noble a 
thing it is, and how anxious all of us who love 
you are that you should " be kindly affectioned 
one to another; in honor preferring one an- 
other." 



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